We cannot forget that the massive head of the sperm whale still hung off the side of the Pequod.
They would have to leave it there for a while. There was no time to deal with it right now.
Other urgent work had come up. All anyone could do for that huge head was hope the ropes and tackle held fast.
Through the previous night and that morning, the Pequod had slowly drifted into new waters.
Patches of yellow whale food floated on the surface. That was a clear sign right whales were nearby.
Hardly anyone expected to find right whales in this stretch of ocean at this time of year.
The crew generally thought right whales were not worth hunting. The Pequod’s mission was not to chase them.
They had passed whole groups of these whales near the Crozet Islands and never even lowered a single hunting boat.
But now, with a dead sperm whale tied alongside, its head chopped off, the captain gave a surprising order.
If the chance came that day, they would catch a right whale too.
It was not long before their chance showed up.
Tall whale spouts blew into the air downwind.
Two boats, Stubb’s and Flask’s, were sent out to give chase.
The boats rowed farther and farther away. Soon the men up in the ship’s masts could barely see them.
Then far off, they spotted a big patch of churning, white‑frothed water.
Word came down from high up: one or both boats had harpooned a whale.
Some time passed. Now the boats were plainly visible.
The whale was towing them straight back toward the Pequod.
The giant beast swam so close to the hull that for a moment it looked like it meant to ram the ship.
Then, just a short distance from the wooden planks, it spun down into a swirling whirlpool and vanished.
It seemed to dive right under the ship’s bottom.
“Cut the lines! Cut!” men on the ship shouted toward the boats.
For a split second, the small craft looked certain to crash violently against the ship’s side.
But there was still plenty of rope coiled in the boats’ tubs. The whale was not diving straight down at top speed.
The men let lots of line run out. At the same time they rowed as hard as they could, trying to get ahead of the ship.
Minutes ticked by in terrifying tension.
They were letting heavy rope slip one way, while pulling their oars the other. The opposing pulls threatened to drag them under the waves.
They only needed to move forward a few feet. They kept fighting until they made it.
A sharp, fast shudder raced like lightning along the ship’s keel.
The stretched rope scraped underneath the hull. It popped up in view under the bow, snapping and trembling.
Water flew off the cord, droplets hitting the sea like shards of broken glass.
Out beyond the ship, the whale surfaced again. The boats were free once more.
The worn‑out whale slowed down. It turned blindly and swam around the stern, dragging both boats behind it in a full circle.
Meanwhile the men kept hauling in their harpoon lines. They closed in on the whale from both sides.
Stubb and Flask stabbed at it with their lances, thrust after thrust.
The fight circled round and round the Pequod.
Swarms of sharks, which had been feeding around the dead sperm whale’s body, rushed toward the fresh spilling blood.
They bit greedily at every new wound, drinking the flowing gore just as thirsty people drank from a spring that burst from a rock.
At last the whale’s spout turned thick and gurgling. With a terrible roll and gasp, it flipped over onto its back. It was dead.
The two boat captains tied ropes to its tail flukes. They got the huge body ready to be towed back to the ship.
As they worked, they talked to one another.
“I wonder what the old captain wants with this big lump of greasy blubber,” Stubb said. He sounded disgusted about dealing with such an unimpressive whale.
“Wants it?” Flask replied. He coiled up spare rope in the front of the boat.
“Haven’t you heard the old story? If a ship hoists a sperm whale’s head on its right side, and a right whale’s head on its left side, that ship can never sink.”
“Why would that be?”
“I don’t know. But I heard Fedallah, that strange pale man, say it. He seems to know all kinds of old sea magic about ships.”
“Still, I sometimes think his magic will bring us bad luck. I don’t trust that fellow at all, Stubb. Have you noticed his tusk‑like tooth? It’s carved to look like a snake’s head.”
“Damn him. I barely look at him. But if I get my chance some dark night, when he’s standing alone by the rail, with nobody else around…”
Stubb moved both hands, gesturing down toward the dark ocean water.
“Mark my words, Flask. I think Fedallah is the devil in human disguise.”
“Do you believe that silly tale that he stowed away and snuck onto this ship?”
“He is the devil. The reason you never see his tail is he hides it. Probably keeps it coiled up inside his coat pocket.”
“Curse him. Come to think of it, he’s always asking for old tar‑soaked rope fibers to stuff inside his boot toes.”
“He sleeps in those boots of his, doesn’t he? He has no hanging bunk. I’ve seen him lie down at night curled on top of ship rigging.”
“Sure he does. That’s to hide his devil’s tail. He tucks it into the loops of the ropes.”
“Why does Captain Ahab keep him so close?”
“I reckon they’ve struck some kind of deal.”
“A deal? About what?”
“Well, the old man is obsessed with hunting Moby Dick, the white whale. The devil is working on him. He wants to trick Ahab into trading something‑‑his silver watch, or even his soul.”
“Then Fedallah would hand over the white whale. That’s my guess.”
“Nonsense, Stubb. You’re just joking around. How could Fedallah do something like that?”
“I can’t explain exactly, Flask. But the devil is a strange, evil creature.
I’ve heard stories. Once he walked right onto a warship. Swished his tail like some fancy gentleman, and asked if the admiral was home.”
“The admiral was there. He asked what the devil wanted.”
“The devil tapped his hooves and said, ‘I want one of your men named John.’”
“‘What for?’ the admiral asked.”
“‘That’s none of your business,’ the devil snapped. ‘I need to use him.’”
“‘Take him,’ said the admiral.”
“And I swear, Flask. Before the devil was done with John, that poor man came down with deadly Asiatic cholera. I’d swallow this whole whale in one bite if that isn’t true.”
“Now hurry up! Are we ready? Good. Row forward. Let’s drag this whale next to the ship.”
“I think I’ve heard a story something like that,” Flask said. The two boats slowly pulled their heavy catch toward the Pequod. “Though I can’t remember where.”
“From The Three Spaniards? Those bloody soldier adventures? Did you read it there?”
“Never opened that book. Only heard of it. Tell me, Stubb‑‑do you think that devil from your story is really Fedallah here on our ship?”
“Am I the same man who helped kill this whale? The devil lives forever. Has anyone ever heard news that the devil died?
Have you ever seen a priest wear black mourning clothes for the devil?
If the devil can walk straight into an admiral’s private cabin, do you think a little ship window will stop him from climbing aboard? Answer me that, Flask.”
“How old would you say Fedallah is?”
“See that main mast?” Stubb pointed toward the ship.
“That counts as number one. Now take every wooden barrel hoop in the Pequod’s storage hold. Line them up beside the mast to stand for zeros.
Even all those hoops would not add up to Fedallah’s age.
Every barrel‑maker in the whole world could not make enough hoops to write out how old he is.”
“Wait a minute. Earlier you bragged you’d toss Fedallah overboard if you got a good chance.”
“But if he’s that ancient, and if he cannot die, what good would throwing him into the sea do?”
“Well, at least he’d get a thorough dunking.”
“He would just climb right back onto the ship.”
“Dunk him again. Keep throwing him back in.”
“What if he decides to drown you instead? Then what?”
“I’d like to see him try. I’d beat him so badly both his eyes would swell shut. He would not dare show his face in any captain’s quarters for months.
Not to mention the low dark storage room where he sleeps, or these upper decks where he creeps around.
Damn the devil. Do you think I am scared of him?
Only the old leaders are afraid. They never lock the devil up like he deserves. Instead they let him wander, stealing people away. They even make pacts that they will burn victims for him. Some kind of leaders those are!”
“Do you think Fedallah wants to take Captain Ahab?”
“You will find out soon enough, Flask. I’m going to keep a sharp eye on him.
If I spot anything suspicious, I will grab him by the back of his neck. ‘Listen here, Beelzebub‑‑don’t you dare.’
If he puts up a fight, I will reach into his pocket for that devil tail of his.
I will tie it to the ship’s capstan winch and pull. I’ll yank so hard his tail will rip clean off.
Once he loses that tail, I bet he will sneak away, too humiliated to slink around anymore.”
“What would you do with his tail after that?”
“Sell it back on land. Make an ox whip out of it. What else?”
“Are you serious about all this, Stubb?”
“Serious or not‑‑look. We have reached the ship.”
Shouts came from the Pequod. They ordered the boats to tow the right whale to the ship’s left side.
Chains for holding whale tails and all the needed gear were already set up.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Flask said. “Soon you will see this right whale’s head hanging opposite the sperm whale’s head.”
What Flask said came true.
Before this, the Pequod had leaned far over toward the heavy sperm‑whale head. Now, with one huge head on each side, the ship balanced level again.
You can be sure the ship’s timbers strained terribly under the weight.
It is like reading philosophy. Hoist Locke’s big ideas on one side, and the boat tilts. Hoist Kant’s ideas on the other side to balance it out‑‑yet the whole craft stays badly stressed.
Some people’s minds keep shifting back and forth like this.
Foolish men! Throw all those heavy, conflicting thoughts overboard. Then you can sail steady and light.
The work for processing a right whale alongside the ship started much the same as with a sperm whale.
For sperm whales, they cut the whole head off in one piece. For right whales, workers usually cut out the lips and tongue separately and hoist them onto deck.
Attached was the famous black baleen bone from the whale’s upper mouth.
But none of that happened this time.
Both whale bodies trailed behind the stern. The ship carrying two giant whale heads looked like a mule crushed under two overstuffed saddlebags.
Fedallah stood apart, calmly staring at the right whale’s massive head.
Now and then he glanced from the deep wrinkles on the whale’s head down to the lines and marks on the palm of his own hand.
Captain Ahab happened to stand where Fedallah was completely within Ahab’s shadow.
Fedallah’s own shadow, if you could see it at all, only seemed to merge and stretch into Ahab’s.
While the crew labored away, strange wild guesses and old northern‑sea superstitions passed between the sailors about everything they were witnessing.
We cannot forget that the massive head of the sperm whale still hung off the side of the Pequod.
They would have to leave it there for a while. There was no time to deal with it right now.
Other urgent work had come up. All anyone could do for that huge head was hope the ropes and tackle held fast.
Through the previous night and that morning, the Pequod had slowly drifted into new waters.
Patches of yellow whale food floated on the surface. That was a clear sign right whales were nearby.
Hardly anyone expected to find right whales in this stretch of ocean at this time of year.
The crew generally thought right whales were not worth hunting. The Pequod’s mission was not to chase them.
They had passed whole groups of these whales near the Crozet Islands and never even lowered a single hunting boat.
But now, with a dead sperm whale tied alongside, its head chopped off, the captain gave a surprising order.
If the chance came that day, they would catch a right whale too.
It was not long before their chance showed up.
Tall whale spouts blew into the air downwind.
Two boats, Stubb’s and Flask’s, were sent out to give chase.
The boats rowed farther and farther away. Soon the men up in the ship’s masts could barely see them.
Then far off, they spotted a big patch of churning, white‑frothed water.
Word came down from high up: one or both boats had harpooned a whale.
Some time passed. Now the boats were plainly visible.
The whale was towing them straight back toward the Pequod.
The giant beast swam so close to the hull that for a moment it looked like it meant to ram the ship.
Then, just a short distance from the wooden planks, it spun down into a swirling whirlpool and vanished.
It seemed to dive right under the ship’s bottom.
“Cut the lines! Cut!” men on the ship shouted toward the boats.
For a split second, the small craft looked certain to crash violently against the ship’s side.
But there was still plenty of rope coiled in the boats’ tubs. The whale was not diving straight down at top speed.
The men let lots of line run out. At the same time they rowed as hard as they could, trying to get ahead of the ship.
Minutes ticked by in terrifying tension.
They were letting heavy rope slip one way, while pulling their oars the other. The opposing pulls threatened to drag them under the waves.
They only needed to move forward a few feet. They kept fighting until they made it.
A sharp, fast shudder raced like lightning along the ship’s keel.
The stretched rope scraped underneath the hull. It popped up in view under the bow, snapping and trembling.
Water flew off the cord, droplets hitting the sea like shards of broken glass.
Out beyond the ship, the whale surfaced again. The boats were free once more.
The worn‑out whale slowed down. It turned blindly and swam around the stern, dragging both boats behind it in a full circle.
Meanwhile the men kept hauling in their harpoon lines. They closed in on the whale from both sides.
Stubb and Flask stabbed at it with their lances, thrust after thrust.
The fight circled round and round the Pequod.
Swarms of sharks, which had been feeding around the dead sperm whale’s body, rushed toward the fresh spilling blood.
They bit greedily at every new wound, drinking the flowing gore just as thirsty people drank from a spring that burst from a rock.
At last the whale’s spout turned thick and gurgling. With a terrible roll and gasp, it flipped over onto its back. It was dead.
The two boat captains tied ropes to its tail flukes. They got the huge body ready to be towed back to the ship.
As they worked, they talked to one another.
“I wonder what the old captain wants with this big lump of greasy blubber,” Stubb said. He sounded disgusted about dealing with such an unimpressive whale.
“Wants it?” Flask replied. He coiled up spare rope in the front of the boat.
“Haven’t you heard the old story? If a ship hoists a sperm whale’s head on its right side, and a right whale’s head on its left side, that ship can never sink.”
“Why would that be?”
“I don’t know. But I heard Fedallah, that strange pale man, say it. He seems to know all kinds of old sea magic about ships.”
“Still, I sometimes think his magic will bring us bad luck. I don’t trust that fellow at all, Stubb. Have you noticed his tusk‑like tooth? It’s carved to look like a snake’s head.”
“Damn him. I barely look at him. But if I get my chance some dark night, when he’s standing alone by the rail, with nobody else around…”
Stubb moved both hands, gesturing down toward the dark ocean water.
“Mark my words, Flask. I think Fedallah is the devil in human disguise.”
“Do you believe that silly tale that he stowed away and snuck onto this ship?”
“He is the devil. The reason you never see his tail is he hides it. Probably keeps it coiled up inside his coat pocket.”
“Curse him. Come to think of it, he’s always asking for old tar‑soaked rope fibers to stuff inside his boot toes.”
“He sleeps in those boots of his, doesn’t he? He has no hanging bunk. I’ve seen him lie down at night curled on top of ship rigging.”
“Sure he does. That’s to hide his devil’s tail. He tucks it into the loops of the ropes.”
“Why does Captain Ahab keep him so close?”
“I reckon they’ve struck some kind of deal.”
“A deal? About what?”
“Well, the old man is obsessed with hunting Moby Dick, the white whale. The devil is working on him. He wants to trick Ahab into trading something‑‑his silver watch, or even his soul.”
“Then Fedallah would hand over the white whale. That’s my guess.”
“Nonsense, Stubb. You’re just joking around. How could Fedallah do something like that?”
“I can’t explain exactly, Flask. But the devil is a strange, evil creature.
I’ve heard stories. Once he walked right onto a warship. Swished his tail like some fancy gentleman, and asked if the admiral was home.”
“The admiral was there. He asked what the devil wanted.”
“The devil tapped his hooves and said, ‘I want one of your men named John.’”
“‘What for?’ the admiral asked.”
“‘That’s none of your business,’ the devil snapped. ‘I need to use him.’”
“‘Take him,’ said the admiral.”
“And I swear, Flask. Before the devil was done with John, that poor man came down with deadly Asiatic cholera. I’d swallow this whole whale in one bite if that isn’t true.”
“Now hurry up! Are we ready? Good. Row forward. Let’s drag this whale next to the ship.”
“I think I’ve heard a story something like that,” Flask said. The two boats slowly pulled their heavy catch toward the Pequod. “Though I can’t remember where.”
“From The Three Spaniards? Those bloody soldier adventures? Did you read it there?”
“Never opened that book. Only heard of it. Tell me, Stubb‑‑do you think that devil from your story is really Fedallah here on our ship?”
“Am I the same man who helped kill this whale? The devil lives forever. Has anyone ever heard news that the devil died?
Have you ever seen a priest wear black mourning clothes for the devil?
If the devil can walk straight into an admiral’s private cabin, do you think a little ship window will stop him from climbing aboard? Answer me that, Flask.”
“How old would you say Fedallah is?”
“See that main mast?” Stubb pointed toward the ship.
“That counts as number one. Now take every wooden barrel hoop in the Pequod’s storage hold. Line them up beside the mast to stand for zeros.
Even all those hoops would not add up to Fedallah’s age.
Every barrel‑maker in the whole world could not make enough hoops to write out how old he is.”
“Wait a minute. Earlier you bragged you’d toss Fedallah overboard if you got a good chance.”
“But if he’s that ancient, and if he cannot die, what good would throwing him into the sea do?”
“Well, at least he’d get a thorough dunking.”
“He would just climb right back onto the ship.”
“Dunk him again. Keep throwing him back in.”
“What if he decides to drown you instead? Then what?”
“I’d like to see him try. I’d beat him so badly both his eyes would swell shut. He would not dare show his face in any captain’s quarters for months.
Not to mention the low dark storage room where he sleeps, or these upper decks where he creeps around.
Damn the devil. Do you think I am scared of him?
Only the old leaders are afraid. They never lock the devil up like he deserves. Instead they let him wander, stealing people away. They even make pacts that they will burn victims for him. Some kind of leaders those are!”
“Do you think Fedallah wants to take Captain Ahab?”
“You will find out soon enough, Flask. I’m going to keep a sharp eye on him.
If I spot anything suspicious, I will grab him by the back of his neck. ‘Listen here, Beelzebub‑‑don’t you dare.’
If he puts up a fight, I will reach into his pocket for that devil tail of his.
I will tie it to the ship’s capstan winch and pull. I’ll yank so hard his tail will rip clean off.
Once he loses that tail, I bet he will sneak away, too humiliated to slink around anymore.”
“What would you do with his tail after that?”
“Sell it back on land. Make an ox whip out of it. What else?”
“Are you serious about all this, Stubb?”
“Serious or not‑‑look. We have reached the ship.”
Shouts came from the Pequod. They ordered the boats to tow the right whale to the ship’s left side.
Chains for holding whale tails and all the needed gear were already set up.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Flask said. “Soon you will see this right whale’s head hanging opposite the sperm whale’s head.”
What Flask said came true.
Before this, the Pequod had leaned far over toward the heavy sperm‑whale head. Now, with one huge head on each side, the ship balanced level again.
You can be sure the ship’s timbers strained terribly under the weight.
It is like reading philosophy. Hoist Locke’s big ideas on one side, and the boat tilts. Hoist Kant’s ideas on the other side to balance it out‑‑yet the whole craft stays badly stressed.
Some people’s minds keep shifting back and forth like this.
Foolish men! Throw all those heavy, conflicting thoughts overboard. Then you can sail steady and light.
The work for processing a right whale alongside the ship started much the same as with a sperm whale.
For sperm whales, they cut the whole head off in one piece. For right whales, workers usually cut out the lips and tongue separately and hoist them onto deck.
Attached was the famous black baleen bone from the whale’s upper mouth.
But none of that happened this time.
Both whale bodies trailed behind the stern. The ship carrying two giant whale heads looked like a mule crushed under two overstuffed saddlebags.
Fedallah stood apart, calmly staring at the right whale’s massive head.
Now and then he glanced from the deep wrinkles on the whale’s head down to the lines and marks on the palm of his own hand.
Captain Ahab happened to stand where Fedallah was completely within Ahab’s shadow.
Fedallah’s own shadow, if you could see it at all, only seemed to merge and stretch into Ahab’s.
While the crew labored away, strange wild guesses and old northern‑sea superstitions passed between the sailors about everything they were witnessing.