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- 2026-01-23T15:41:04.768Z
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- 15843
- text
- and chief-mate, with six sailors, had all died of a fever caught from a
blasted whale they had brought alongside.”
Upon this the captain started, and eagerly desired to know more.
“What now?” said the Guernsey-man to Stubb.
“Why, since he takes it so easy, tell him that now I have eyed him
carefully, I’m quite certain that he’s no more fit to command a
whale-ship than a St. Jago monkey. In fact, tell him from me he’s a
baboon.”
“He vows and declares, Monsieur, that the other whale, the dried one,
is far more deadly than the blasted one; in fine, Monsieur, he conjures
us, as we value our lives, to cut loose from these fish.”
Instantly the captain ran forward, and in a loud voice commanded his
crew to desist from hoisting the cutting-tackles, and at once cast
loose the cables and chains confining the whales to the ship.
“What now?” said the Guernsey-man, when the Captain had returned to
them.
“Why, let me see; yes, you may as well tell him now that—that—in fact,
tell him I’ve diddled him, and (aside to himself) perhaps somebody
else.”
“He says, Monsieur, that he’s very happy to have been of any service to
us.”
Hearing this, the captain vowed that they were the grateful parties
(meaning himself and mate) and concluded by inviting Stubb down into
his cabin to drink a bottle of Bordeaux.
“He wants you to take a glass of wine with him,” said the interpreter.
“Thank him heartily; but tell him it’s against my principles to drink
with the man I’ve diddled. In fact, tell him I must go.”
“He says, Monsieur, that his principles won’t admit of his drinking;
but that if Monsieur wants to live another day to drink, then Monsieur
had best drop all four boats, and pull the ship away from these whales,
for it’s so calm they won’t drift.”
By this time Stubb was over the side, and getting into his boat, hailed
the Guernsey-man to this effect,—that having a long tow-line in his
boat, he would do what he could to help them, by pulling out the
lighter whale of the two from the ship’s side. While the Frenchman’s
boats, then, were engaged in towing the ship one way, Stubb
benevolently towed away at his whale the other way, ostentatiously
slacking out a most unusually long tow-line.
Presently a breeze sprang up; Stubb feigned to cast off from the whale;
hoisting his boats, the Frenchman soon increased his distance, while
the Pequod slid in between him and Stubb’s whale. Whereupon Stubb
quickly pulled to the floating body, and hailing the Pequod to give
notice of his intentions, at once proceeded to reap the fruit of his
unrighteous cunning. Seizing his sharp boat-spade, he commenced an
excavation in the body, a little behind the side fin. You would almost
have thought he was digging a cellar there in the sea; and when at
length his spade struck against the gaunt ribs, it was like turning up
old Roman tiles and pottery buried in fat English loam. His boat’s crew
were all in high excitement, eagerly helping their chief, and looking
as anxious as gold-hunters.
And all the time numberless fowls were diving, and ducking, and
screaming, and yelling, and fighting around them. Stubb was beginning
to look disappointed, especially as the horrible nosegay increased,
when suddenly from out the very heart of this plague, there stole a
faint stream of perfume, which flowed through the tide of bad smells
without being absorbed by it, as one river will flow into and then
along with another, without at all blending with it for a time.
“I have it, I have it,” cried Stubb, with delight, striking something
in the subterranean regions, “a purse! a purse!”
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