Stubb Kills a Whale

If to Starbuck the apparition of the Squid was a thing of portents, to Queequeg it was quite a different object.

If the appearance of the Squid was an omen to Starbuck, it meant something quite different to Queequeg.

“When you see him ’quid,” said the savage, honing his harpoon in the bow of his hoisted boat, “then you quick see him ’parm whale.”

“When you see squid,” said the savage, sharpening his harpoon in the bow of his raised boat, “you’ll soon see a sperm whale.”

The next day was exceedingly still and sultry, and with nothing special to engage them, the Pequod’s crew could hardly resist the spell of sleep induced by such a vacant sea. For this part of the Indian Ocean through which we then were voyaging is not what whalemen call a lively ground; that is, it affords fewer glimpses of porpoises, dolphins, flying-fish, and other vivacious denizens of more stirring waters, than those off the Rio de la Plata, or the in-shore ground off Peru.

The next day was extremely calm and humid. With nothing special to occupy them, the Pequod’s crew could hardly resist the sleepiness brought on by the empty sea. The part of the Indian Ocean we were sailing through was not what whalers call a lively ground. We saw fewer porpoises, dolphins, flying fish, and other lively creatures there than in the more active waters off the Rio de la Plata or near the coast of Peru.

It was my turn to stand at the foremast-head; and with my shoulders leaning against the slackened royal shrouds, to and fro I idly swayed in what seemed an enchanted air. No resolution could withstand it; in that dreamy mood losing all consciousness, at last my soul went out of my body; though my body still continued to sway as a pendulum will, long after the power which first moved it is withdrawn.

It was my turn to stand watch at the top of the foremast. Leaning my shoulders against the loose royal shrouds, I swayed idly back and forth in what seemed like enchanted air. No determination could resist it. In that dreamy mood, I lost all consciousness, and at last my soul left my body. Yet my body kept swaying, like a pendulum long after the force that first set it moving has been withdrawn.

Ere forgetfulness altogether came over me, I had noticed that the seamen at the main and mizzen-mast-heads were already drowsy. So that at last all three of us lifelessly swung from the spars, and for every swing that we made there was a nod from below from the slumbering helmsman. The waves, too, nodded their indolent crests; and across the wide trance of the sea, east nodded to west, and the sun over all.

Before I drifted off completely, I noticed that the sailors atop the mainmast and mizzenmast were already drowsy. At last, all three of us swung limply from the spars. For every swing we made, the sleeping helmsman nodded below us. The waves, too, nodded their lazy crests. Across the wide, trancelike sea, east nodded to west, and the sun nodded over all.

Suddenly bubbles seemed bursting beneath my closed eyes; like vices my hands grasped the shrouds; some invisible, gracious agency preserved me; with a shock I came back to life. And lo! close under our lee, not forty fathoms off, a gigantic Sperm Whale lay rolling in the water like the capsized hull of a frigate, his broad, glossy back, of an Ethiopian hue, glistening in the sun’s rays like a mirror. But lazily undulating in the trough of the sea, and ever and anon tranquilly spouting his vapory jet, the whale looked like a portly burgher smoking his pipe of a warm afternoon. But that pipe, poor whale, was thy last. As if struck by some enchanter’s wand, the sleepy ship and every sleeper in it all at once started into wakefulness; and more than a score of voices from all parts of the vessel, simultaneously with the three notes from aloft, shouted forth the accustomed cry, as the great fish slowly and regularly spouted the sparkling brine into the air.

Suddenly, bubbles seemed to burst beneath my closed eyes. My hands gripped the ship’s rigging like vices. Some invisible, merciful power saved me, and I came back to life with a shock. And there, close under the sheltered side of our ship, less than forty fathoms away, lay a gigantic Sperm Whale. He rolled in the water like the overturned hull of a warship. His broad, glossy, dark-skinned back gleamed in the sunlight like a mirror. But the whale rolled lazily in the trough of the sea, calmly spouting a misty jet now and then. He looked like a plump townsman smoking his pipe on a warm afternoon. But that pipe, poor whale, was your last. As if touched by a magician’s wand, the sleepy ship and everyone sleeping in it suddenly woke. The great fish slowly and steadily spouted sparkling seawater into the air. At the same moment, more than twenty voices from all parts of the ship joined the three cries from aloft. All shouted the familiar cry.

“Clear away the boats! Luff!” cried Ahab. And obeying his own order, he dashed the helm down before the helmsman could handle the spokes.

“Get the boats ready! Turn into the wind!” Ahab shouted. Following his own order, he shoved the wheel down before the helmsman could take hold of it.

The sudden exclamations of the crew must have alarmed the whale; and ere the boats were down, majestically turning, he swam away to the leeward, but with such a steady tranquillity, and making so few ripples as he swam, that thinking after all he might not as yet be alarmed, Ahab gave orders that not an oar should be used, and no man must speak but in whispers. So seated like Ontario Indians on the gunwales of the boats, we swiftly but silently paddled along; the calm not admitting of the noiseless sails being set. Presently, as we thus glided in chase, the monster perpendicularly flitted his tail forty feet into the air, and then sank out of sight like a tower swallowed up.

The crew's sudden cries must have alarmed the whale. Before the boats were lowered, he turned majestically and swam away to leeward. But he moved so steadily and calmly, making so few ripples, that Ahab thought he might not be alarmed after all. So Ahab ordered that no one use an oar and that everyone speak only in whispers. Sitting on the gunwales of the boats like Ontario Indians, we paddled swiftly and silently along. The air was too calm to use the noiseless sails. Soon, as we glided in pursuit, the monster flicked his tail straight up, forty feet into the air. Then he sank out of sight like a tower being swallowed up.

“There go flukes!” was the cry, an announcement immediately followed by Stubb’s producing his match and igniting his pipe, for now a respite was granted. After the full interval of his sounding had elapsed, the whale rose again, and being now in advance of the smoker’s boat, and much nearer to it than to any of the others, Stubb counted upon the honor of the capture. It was obvious, now, that the whale had at length become aware of his pursuers. All silence of cautiousness was therefore no longer of use. Paddles were dropped, and oars came loudly into play. And still puffing at his pipe, Stubb cheered on his crew to the assault.

“There go flukes!” someone cried. Stubb immediately struck a match and lit his pipe, for there was now a break in the chase. After the whale had spent its usual time underwater, it surfaced again. It was now ahead of Stubb’s boat and much closer to it than to any of the others. Stubb therefore expected the honor of capturing the whale. By now, the whale had clearly become aware of its pursuers. There was no longer any reason to stay quiet and cautious. The crew put down their paddles and began rowing loudly with their oars. Still puffing on his pipe, Stubb urged his crew on to the attack.

Yes, a mighty change had come over the fish. All alive to his jeopardy, he was going “head out”; that part obliquely projecting from the mad yeast which he brewed.*

Yes, a tremendous change had come over the fish. Fully aware of his danger, he was going “head out,” his head jutting at an angle from the wild foam he churned up.*

*It will be seen in some other place of what a very light substance the entire interior of the sperm whale’s enormous head consists. Though apparently the most massive, it is by far the most buoyant part about him. So that with ease he elevates it in the air, and invariably does so when going at his utmost speed. Besides, such is the breadth of the upper part of the front of his head, and such the tapering cut-water formation of the lower part, that by obliquely elevating his head, he thereby may be said to transform himself from a bluff-bowed sluggish galliot into a sharppointed New York pilot-boat.

*Elsewhere, we will see how light the material inside a sperm whale’s enormous head is. Though the head looks like his most massive part, it is by far his most buoyant. So he can easily lift it into the air, and he always does when swimming at full speed. The upper front of his head is also broad, while the lower part tapers like a ship’s prow. By lifting his head at an angle, he may be said to transform himself. He changes from a slow, blunt-bowed galliot into a sharply pointed New York pilot boat.

“Start her, start her, my men! Don’t hurry yourselves; take plenty of time—but start her; start her like thunder-claps, that’s all,” cried Stubb, spluttering out the smoke as he spoke. “Start her, now; give ’em the long and strong stroke, Tashtego. Start her, Tash, my boy—start her, all; but keep cool, keep cool—cucumbers is the word—easy, easy—only start her like grim death and grinning devils, and raise the buried dead perpendicular out of their graves, boys—that’s all. Start her!”

“Get her moving, get her moving, men! Don’t hurry yourselves. Take plenty of time, but get her moving. Get her moving like thunderclaps, that’s all,” cried Stubb, puffing out smoke as he spoke. “Get her moving now. Give them long, strong strokes, Tashtego. Get her moving, Tash, my boy. Get her moving, all of you. But stay cool, stay cool. Cool as cucumbers, that’s the word. Easy, easy. Just get her moving like grim death and grinning devils. Raise the buried dead straight up out of their graves, boys. That’s all. Get her moving!”

“Woo-hoo! Wa-hee!” screamed the Gay-Header in reply, raising some old war-whoop to the skies; as every oarsman in the strained boat involuntarily bounced forward with the one tremendous leading stroke which the eager Indian gave.

“Woo-hoo! Wa-hee!” screamed the Gay-Header in reply, sending an old war cry into the sky. As the eager Indian gave one tremendous leading stroke, every oarsman in the straining boat bounced forward without meaning to.

But his wild screams were answered by others quite as wild. “Kee-hee! Kee-hee!” yelled Daggoo, straining forwards and backwards on his seat, like a pacing tiger in his cage.

But other screams answered his, just as wild as his own. “Kee-hee! Kee-hee!” Daggoo yelled, straining forward and backward on his seat like a tiger pacing in its cage.

“Ka-la! Koo-loo!” howled Queequeg, as if smacking his lips over a mouthful of Grenadier’s steak. And thus with oars and yells the keels cut the sea. Meanwhile, Stubb retaining his place in the van, still encouraged his men to the onset, all the while puffing the smoke from his mouth. Like desperadoes they tugged and they strained, till the welcome cry was heard—“Stand up, Tashtego!—give it to him!” The harpoon was hurled. “Stern all!” The oarsmen backed water; the same moment something went hot and hissing along every one of their wrists. It was the magical line. An instant before, Stubb had swiftly caught two additional turns with it round the loggerhead, whence, by reason of its increased rapid circlings, a hempen blue smoke now jetted up and mingled with the steady fumes from his pipe. As the line passed round and round the loggerhead; so also, just before reaching that point, it blisteringly passed through and through both of Stubb’s hands, from which the hand-cloths, or squares of quilted canvas sometimes worn at these times, had accidentally dropped. It was like holding an enemy’s sharp two-edged sword by the blade, and that enemy all the time striving to wrest it out of your clutch.

“Ka-la! Koo-loo!” howled Queequeg, as if smacking his lips over a mouthful of Grenadier’s steak. With oars pulling and men yelling, the boats cut through the sea. Meanwhile, Stubb held his place in the lead. He kept urging his men toward the attack, puffing smoke from his mouth all the while. They pulled and strained like desperadoes until they heard the welcome cry: “Stand up, Tashtego! Give it to him!” The harpoon was hurled. “Stern all!” The oarsmen rowed backward. At the same moment, something hot and hissing raced past every one of their wrists. It was the magical line. An instant earlier, Stubb had quickly taken two extra turns of the line around the loggerhead. As the line circled the post faster and faster, blue smoke from the hemp rose and mixed with the steady fumes from his pipe. Just before the line reached the loggerhead, it also ran through both of Stubb’s hands, burning them. He had accidentally dropped his hand-cloths, the squares of quilted canvas sometimes worn at such moments. It was like holding an enemy’s sharp two-edged sword by the blade while the enemy kept trying to wrest it from your grip.

“Wet the line! wet the line!” cried Stubb to the tub oarsman (him seated by the tub) who, snatching off his hat, dashed sea-water into it.* More turns were taken, so that the line began holding its place. The boat now flew through the boiling water like a shark all fins. Stubb and Tashtego here changed places—stem for stern—a staggering business truly in that rocking commotion.

“Wet the line! Wet the line!” Stubb cried to the tub oarsman, who sat beside the tub. The oarsman snatched off his hat and used it to splash seawater onto the line.* They took more turns with the line, so that it began to hold in place. The boat now flew through the boiling water like a shark, all fins. Stubb and Tashtego switched places, from bow to stern and stern to bow. It was a staggering business in all that rocking commotion.

*Partly to show the indispensableness of this act, it may here be stated, that, in the old Dutch fishery, a mop was used to dash the running line with water; in many other ships, a wooden piggin, or bailer, is set apart for that purpose. Your hat, however, is the most convenient.

*To show how essential this act is, it is worth noting how it was done in the old Dutch fishery. There, a mop was used to splash water on the running line. On many other ships, a wooden piggin, or bailer, is set aside for that purpose. Your hat, however, is the most convenient.

From the vibrating line extending the entire length of the upper part of the boat, and from its now being more tight than a harpstring, you would have thought the craft had two keels—one cleaving the water, the other the air—as the boat churned on through both opposing elements at once. A continual cascade played at the bows; a ceaseless whirling eddy in her wake; and, at the slightest motion from within, even but of a little finger, the vibrating, cracking craft canted over her spasmodic gunwale into the sea. Thus they rushed; each man with might and main clinging to his seat, to prevent being tossed to the foam; and the tall form of Tashtego at the steering oar crouching almost double, in order to bring down his centre of gravity. Whole Atlantics and Pacifics seemed passed as they shot on their way, till at length the whale somewhat slackened his flight.

The vibrating line ran the entire length of the boat’s upper side, pulled tighter than a harp string. It made the boat seem to have two keels, one cutting through the water, the other through the air. The boat churned through both opposing elements at once. Water cascaded constantly over the bow, and an eddy whirled endlessly in the wake. At the slightest movement inside, even the motion of a little finger, the vibrating, cracking boat tipped its jerking gunwale into the sea. So they rushed on, each man clinging to his seat with all his might to avoid being thrown into the foam. Tall Tashtego crouched almost double at the steering oar to lower his center of gravity. As they shot along, they seemed to pass across whole Atlantics and Pacifics, until at last the whale slowed somewhat.

“Haul in—haul in!” cried Stubb to the bowsman! and, facing round towards the whale, all hands began pulling the boat up to him, while yet the boat was being towed on. Soon ranging up by his flank, Stubb, firmly planting his knee in the clumsy cleat, darted dart after dart into the flying fish; at the word of command, the boat alternately sterning out of the way of the whale’s horrible wallow, and then ranging up for another fling.

“Haul in, haul in!” Stubb cried to the bowsman. All hands turned toward the whale and began pulling the boat toward him, even as he towed them along. Soon they drew up alongside him. Stubb braced his knee firmly against the awkward cleat and hurled dart after dart into the fleeing fish. At his command, the crew backed the boat away from the whale’s horrible thrashing, then drew alongside for another throw.

The red tide now poured from all sides of the monster like brooks down a hill. His tormented body rolled not in brine but in blood, which bubbled and seethed for furlongs behind in their wake. The slanting sun playing upon this crimson pond in the sea, sent back its reflection into every face, so that they all glowed to each other like red men. And all the while, jet after jet of white smoke was agonizingly shot from the spiracle of the whale, and vehement puff after puff from the mouth of the excited headsman; as at every dart, hauling in upon his crooked lance (by the line attached to it), Stubb straightened it again and again, by a few rapid blows against the gunwale, then again and again sent it into the whale.

Blood now poured from every side of the monster like streams down a hill. His tormented body rolled not in seawater but in blood, which bubbled and churned for furlongs behind them. The slanting sun shone on this crimson pool in the sea and reflected into every face, so that they all glowed red to one another. All the while, the whale shot jet after jet of white smoke from his blowhole in agony. The excited headsman also blew out one forceful puff after another. Each time Stubb thrust his lance into the whale, he pulled it back by its attached line. Then he straightened the bent lance with a few quick blows against the side of the boat. Again and again, he drove it into the whale.

“Pull up—pull up!” he now cried to the bowsman, as the waning whale relaxed in his wrath. “Pull up!—close to!” and the boat ranged along the fish’s flank. When reaching far over the bow, Stubb slowly churned his long sharp lance into the fish, and kept it there, carefully churning and churning, as if cautiously seeking to feel after some gold watch that the whale might have swallowed, and which he was fearful of breaking ere he could hook it out. But that gold watch he sought was the innermost life of the fish. And now it is struck; for, starting from his trance into that unspeakable thing called his “flurry,” the monster horribly wallowed in his blood, overwrapped himself in impenetrable, mad, boiling spray, so that the imperilled craft, instantly dropping astern, had much ado blindly to struggle out from that phrensied twilight into the clear air of the day.

“Pull up, pull up!” he cried to the bowsman, as the weakening whale’s rage began to subside. “Pull up! Close in!” The boat moved alongside the whale’s flank. Reaching far over the bow, Stubb slowly worked his long, sharp lance into the whale. He kept it there, carefully moving it around and around. He seemed to be searching for a gold watch the whale might have swallowed, afraid of breaking it before he could hook it out. But the gold watch he sought was the whale’s innermost life. Now he struck it. The monster sprang from his trance into that unspeakable thing called his “flurry.” He rolled horribly in his own blood and wrapped himself in a thick, wild, boiling spray. The boat was in danger and immediately fell behind. It struggled blindly to escape that frenzied twilight and reach the clear air of day.

And now abating in his flurry, the whale once more rolled out into view; surging from side to side; spasmodically dilating and contracting his spout-hole, with sharp, cracking, agonized respirations. At last, gush after gush of clotted red gore, as if it had been the purple lees of red wine, shot into the frighted air; and falling back again, ran dripping down his motionless flanks into the sea. His heart had burst!

As his struggle began to ease, the whale rolled into view again, heaving from side to side. His blowhole opened and closed in spasms as he breathed in sharp, cracking gasps of agony. At last, gush after gush of clotted red blood shot into the frightened air, like the purple sediment of red wine. The blood fell back and dripped down his motionless sides into the sea. His heart had burst!

“He’s dead, Mr. Stubb,” said Daggoo.

“He’s dead, Mr. Stubb,” said Daggoo.

“Yes; both pipes smoked out!” and withdrawing his own from his mouth, Stubb scattered the dead ashes over the water; and, for a moment, stood thoughtfully eyeing the vast corpse he had made.

“Yes, both pipes have burned out!” Stubb took his own pipe from his mouth and scattered the dead ashes over the water. For a moment, he stood looking thoughtfully at the vast corpse he had made.