It was almost six o’clock when Queequeg and I reached the wharf. The sun had not risen yet, and everything was covered in a cold, gray mist.
“There are some sailors running ahead of us,” I said to Queequeg. “Unless I’m mistaken, they’re heading for the ship. The Pequod must be leaving at sunrise. Come on!”
“Stop!”
A man came up behind us, put a hand on each of our shoulders, and squeezed himself between us.
In the dim light, he bent forward and stared strangely at first Queequeg, then at me.
It was Elijah.
“You two are going aboard?”
“Take your hands off us,” I said.
Queequeg shook himself free.
“Go away.”
“So you’re not going aboard?”
“Yes, we are,” I replied. “But why do you care? Frankly, Elijah, you’re being rather rude.”
“No, no. I didn’t realize that,” Elijah said.
He slowly looked from me to Queequeg with a strange, almost confused expression.
“Elijah,” I said, “please leave us alone. We’re going to the Indian and Pacific Oceans, and we’d rather not be delayed.”
“You are, are you?” he asked. “Coming back before breakfast?”
“He’s completely crazy,” I whispered to Queequeg. “Let’s go.”
“Holloa!”
Elijah called after us as we walked away.
“Forget him,” I said. “Come on, Queequeg.”
But Elijah followed us again.
He suddenly put his hand on my shoulder.
“Did you see some men heading toward that ship a little while ago?”
His question sounded so serious and ordinary that I stopped.
“Yes. I think I saw four or five men. But it was too dark for me to be certain.”
“Very dark. Very dark,” Elijah said.
“Good morning.”
We walked away again.
But once more, Elijah quietly followed us.
He touched my shoulder.
“See if you can find them now, will you?”
“Find who?”
“Good morning! Good morning!”
He walked away again.
“Oh, I was going to warn you about something, but never mind. Never mind. It’s all the same. We’re all part of the same family, after all.”
He paused.
“Cold morning, isn’t it?”
Then he looked at me strangely.
“Good-bye. I don’t suppose I’ll see you again anytime soon.”
He took another step.
“Unless it’s before the Grand Jury.”
With those strange words, Elijah finally disappeared.
I stood there for a moment, completely baffled by his behavior. His strange warnings made no sense at all.
At last, Queequeg and I stepped aboard the Pequod.
The ship was strangely quiet.
There was not a single person moving on deck. The cabin door was locked from the inside, and all the hatches were closed and covered with coils of rope.
We walked toward the forecastle and found an opening in the deck.
There was a light below.
We climbed down and found an old sailor asleep there. He was wearing a worn-out pea jacket and lying stretched across two wooden chests.
His face was buried in his folded arms.
He was sleeping so deeply that nothing seemed capable of waking him.
“Queequeg, where did those sailors we saw on the wharf go?” I asked, looking suspiciously at the sleeping man.
Apparently, Queequeg had never noticed them.
For a moment, I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing.
But Elijah’s strange question made that impossible to believe.
Still, I pushed the thought aside.
Looking at the sleeping sailor, I jokingly said, “Perhaps we should stay here and keep watch over him.”
Queequeg seemed to take me seriously.
He put his hand on the man’s backside, apparently checking whether it was comfortable enough.
Then he simply sat down on him.
“Good heavens, Queequeg! Don’t sit there!”
Queequeg looked at me calmly.
“Very good seat,” he said. “My country way. Won’t hurt his face.”
“His face?” I said. “You call that his face? He certainly has a very peaceful-looking face.”
The sleeping man’s breathing was heavy. His whole body rose and fell with every breath.
“Get off him, Queequeg! You’re crushing the poor man’s face.”
Queequeg moved away and sat near the sailor’s head.
He lit his tomahawk-shaped pipe.
I sat down near the man’s feet.
We passed the pipe back and forth over the sleeping sailor.
While we smoked, I asked Queequeg about his strange habit of using another person as a seat.
From his broken English, I understood that in his homeland there were no proper sofas or comfortable chairs.
Instead, important people sometimes used specially chosen servants as living seats.
According to Queequeg, a king or chief could simply keep several lazy men around the house and use them as cushions whenever he wanted.
“It sounds like a convenient arrangement,” I said.
Queequeg nodded.
“It is also useful when traveling,” he explained.
A chief could go outside, find a shady tree, and simply order one of his attendants to lie down so he could sit on him.
As Queequeg talked, he kept waving the axe end of his pipe over the sleeping sailor’s head whenever I handed the pipe back to him.
“What are you doing with that?” I asked.
“Very easy,” Queequeg said.
Then he made a chopping motion.
“Kill him. Very easy!”
He continued telling me wild stories about his tomahawk pipe.
It seemed that the weapon had two purposes in his life. He could use it to fight his enemies, but he could also use it as a pipe to relax and calm himself.
Before he could finish his story, however, we noticed something happening to the sleeping sailor.
The smoke had filled the small space around him.
It was beginning to bother him.
His breathing became muffled.
He sniffed and rubbed his nose.
Then he rolled over once.
Then again.
Finally, he sat up and rubbed his eyes.
“Holloa!” he muttered. “Who are you smokers?”
“We’re crew members,” I answered. “When does the ship sail?”
“Today,” he replied. “You’re going with her, aren’t you?”
“Yes. When does she leave?”
“She sails today. The Captain came aboard last night.”
“What Captain?” I asked.
“Ahab?”
“Who else would I mean?”
I was about to ask him more questions about Captain Ahab when we heard movement on the deck above us.
“Holloa! Starbuck is already up,” the old sailor said.
“He’s an energetic chief mate. A good man, and a religious one, too.”
He stood up.
“But he’s working now, and so must I.”
The sailor climbed onto the deck, and Queequeg and I followed him.
By then, the sun had finally risen.
The ship quickly came to life.
The crew arrived in small groups. The riggers began working. The officers hurried about their duties, and people from shore brought the last supplies aboard.
Everyone was busy preparing the Pequod for departure.
Everyone, that is, except Captain Ahab.
He remained hidden inside his cabin, unseen by all of us.