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Moby Dick [Chapter 72]
H >> Herman Melville >> Moby Dick [Chapter 72]*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
This etext was prepared by Daniel Lazarus
MOBY DICK; OR THE WHITE WHALE
by Herman Melville
CHAPTER 72
The Monkey-Rope
In the tumultuous business of cutting-in and attending to a whale, there
is much running backwards and forwards among the crew. Now hands
are wanted here, and then again hands are wanted there. There is no
staying in any one place; for at one and the same time everything has
to be done everywhere. It is much the same with him who endeavors the
description of the scene. We must now retrace our way a little. It was
mentioned that upon first breaking ground in the whale's back, the
blubber-hook was inserted into the original hole there cut by the spades
of the mates. But how did so clumsy and weighty a mass as that same
hook get fixed in that hole? It was inserted there by my particular friend
Queequeg, whose duty it was, as harpooneer, to descend upon the
monster's back for the special purpose referred to. But in very many cases,
circumstances require that the harpooneer shall remain on the whale till the
whole tensing or stripping operation is concluded. The whale, be it
observed, lies almost entirely submerged, excepting the immediate parts
operated upon. So down there, some ten feet below the level of the deck,
the poor harpooneer flounders about, half on the whale and half in the water,
as the vast mass revolves like a tread-mill beneath him. On the occasion in
question, Queequeg figured in the Highland costume- a shirt and socks- in
which to my eyes, at least, he appeared to uncommon advantage; and no one
had a better chance to observe him, as will presently be seen.
Being the savage's bowsman, that is, the person who pulled the bow-oar
in his boat (the second one from forward), it was my cheerful duty to
attend upon him while taking that hard-scrabble scramble upon the dead
whale's back. You have seen Italian organ-boys holding a dancing-ape
by a long cord. Just so, from the ship's steep side, did I hold Queequeg
down there in the sea, by what is technically called in the fishery a
monkey-rope, attached to a strong strip of canvas belted round his waist.
It was a humorously perilous business for both of us. For, before we
proceed further, it must be said that the monkey-rope was fast at both
ends; fast to Queequeg's broad canvas belt, and fast to my narrow leather
one. So that for better or for worse, we two, for the time, were wedded;
and should poor Queequeg sink to rise no more, then both usage and honor
demanded, that instead of cutting the cord, it should drag me down in his
wake. So, then, an elongated Siamese ligature united us. Queequeg was
my own inseparable twin brother; nor could I any way get rid of the
dangerous liabilities which the hempen bond entailed.
So strongly and metaphysically did I conceive of my situation then, that
while earnestly watching his motions, I seemed distinctly to perceive
that my own individuality was now merged in a joint stock company of
two; that my free will had received a mortal wound; and that another's
mistake or misfortune might plunge innocent me into unmerited disaster
and death. Therefore, I saw that here was a sort of interregnum in
Providence; for its even-handed equity never could have so gross an
injustice. And yet still further pondering- while I jerked him now and
then from between the whale and ship, which would threaten to jam
him - still further pondering, I say, I saw that this situation of mine was
the precise situation of every mortal that breathes; only, in most cases,
he, one way or other, has this Siamese connexion with a plurality of
other mortals. If your banker breaks, you snap; if your apothecary by
mistake sends you poison in your pills, you die. True, you may say that,
by exceeding caution, you may possibly escape these and the multitudinous
other evil chances of life. But handle Queequeg's monkey-rope heedfully
as I would, sometimes he jerked it so, that I came very near sliding
overboard. Nor could I possibly forget that, do what I would, I only had
the management of one end of it.*
*The monkey-rope is found in all whalers; but it was only in the Pequod
that the monkey and his holder were ever tied together. This improvement
upon the original usage was introduced by no less a man than Stubb, in
order to afford to the imperilled harpooneer the strongest possible
guarantee for the faithfulness and vigilance of his monkey-rope holder.
I have hinted that I would often jerk poor Queequeg from between the
whale and the ship- where he would occasionally fall, from the incessant
rolling and swaying of both. But this was not the only jamming jeopardy
he was exposed to. Unappalled by the massacre made upon them during
the night, the sharks now freshly and more keenly allured by the before
pent blood which began to flow from the carcass- the rabid creatures
swarmed round it like bees in a beehive.
And right in among those sharks was Queequeg; who often pushed them
aside with his floundering feet. A thing altogether incredible were it not
that attracted by such prey as a dead whale, the otherwise miscellaneously
carnivorous shark will seldom touch a man.
Nevertheless, it may well be believed that since they have such a
ravenous finger in the pie, it is deemed but wise to look sharp to them.
Accordingly, besides the monkey-rope, with which I now and then jerked
the poor fellow from too close a vicinity to the maw of what seemed a
peculiarly ferocious shark- he was provided with still another protection.
Suspended over the side in one of the stages, Tashtego and Daggoo
continually flourished over his head a couple of keen whale-spades,
wherewith they slaughtered as many sharks as they could reach. This
procedure of theirs, to be sure, was very disinterested and benevolent of
them. They meant Queequeg's best happiness, I admit; but in their hasty
zeal to befriend him, and from the circumstance that both he and the
sharks were at times half hidden by the blood-muddled water, those
indiscreet spades of theirs would come nearer amputating a leg than a
tall. But poor Queequeg, I suppose, straining and gasping there with
that great iron hook- poor Queequeg, I suppose, only prayed to his Yojo,
and gave up his life into the hands of his gods.
Well, well, my dear comrade and twin-brother, thought I, as I drew in
and then slacked off the rope to every swell of the sea- what matters it,
after all? Are you not the precious image of each and all of us men in this
whaling world? That unsounded ocean you gasp in, is Life; those sharks,
your foes; those spades, your friends; and what between sharks and
spades you are in a sad pickle and peril, poor lad.
But courage! there is good cheer in store for you, Queequeg. For now,
as with blue lips and blood-shot eyes the exhausted savage at last climbs
up the chains and stands all dripping and involuntarily trembling over
the side; the steward advances, and with a benevolent, consolatory
glance hands him- what? Some hot Cognac? No! hands him, ye gods!
hands him a cup of tepid ginger and water!
"Ginger? Do I smell ginger?" suspiciously asked Stubb, coming near.
"Yes, this must be ginger," peering into the as yet untasted cup. Then
standing as if incredulous for a while, he calmly walked towards the
astonished steward slowly saying, "Ginger? ginger? and will you have
the goodness to tell me, Mr. Dough-Boy, where lies the virtue of ginger?
Ginger! is ginger the sort of fuel you use, Dough-boy, to kindle a fire in
this shivering cannibal? Ginger!- what the devil is ginger?- sea-coal?
firewood?- lucifer matches?- tinder?- gunpowder?- what the devil is
ginger, I say, that you offer this cup to our poor Queequeg here."
"There is some sneaking Temperance Society movement about this
business," he suddenly added, now approaching Starbuck, who had
just come from forward. "Will you look at that kannakin, sir; smell
of it, if you please." Then watching the mate's countenance, he added,
"The steward, Mr. Starbuck, had the face to offer that calomel and
jalap to Queequeg, there, this instant off the whale. Is the steward an
apothecary, sir? and may I ask whether this is the sort of bitters by
which he blows back the life into a half-drowned man?"
"I trust not," said Starbuck, "it is poor stuff enough."
"Aye, aye, steward," cried Stubb, "we'll teach you to drug it harpooneer;
none of your apothecary's medicine here; you want to poison us, do ye?
You have got out insurances on our lives and want to murder us all, and
pocket the proceeds, do ye?"
"It was not me," cried Dough-Boy, "it was Aunt Charity that brought
the ginger on board; and bade me never give the harpooneers any spirits,
but only this ginger-jub- so she called it."
"Ginger-jub! you gingerly rascal! take that! and run along with ye to the
lockers, and get something better. I hope I do no wrong, Mr. Starbuck.
It is the captain's orders- grog for the harpooneer on a whale."
"Enough," replied Starbuck, "only don't hit him again, but-"
"Oh, I never hurt when I hit, except when I hit a whale or something of
that sort; and this fellow's a weazel. What were you about saying, sir?"
"Only this: go down with him, and get what thou wantest thyself."
When Stubb reappeared, he came with a dark flask in one hand, and a
sort of tea-caddy in the other. The first contained strong spirits, and was
handed to Queequeg; the second was Aunt Charity's gift, and that was
freely given to the waves.
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