Moby Dick

that fictitiously showed him off to ten times the natural lustre
with which in his native Tolland County in Connecticut, he had once
enlivened many a fiddler's frolic on the green; and at melodious
even-tide, with his gay ha-ha! had turned the round horizon into
one star-belled tambourine.  So, though in the clear air of day,
suspended against a blue-veined neck, the pure-watered diamond drop will
healthful glow; yet, when the cunning jeweller would show you the diamond
in its most impressive lustre, he lays it against a gloomy ground,
and then lights it up, not by the sun, but by some unnatural gases.
Then come out those fiery effulgences, infernally superb; then the
evil-blazing diamond, once the divinest symbol of the crystal skies,
looks like some crown-jewel stolen from the King of Hell.  But let
us to the story.

It came to pass, that in the ambergris affair Stubb's after-oarsman
chanced so to sprain his hand, as for a time to become quite maimed;
and, temporarily, Pip was put into his place.

The first time Stubb lowered with him, Pip evinced much nervousness;
but happily, for that time, escaped close contact with the whale;
and therefore came off not altogether discreditably; though Stubb
observing him, took care, afterwards, to exhort him to cherish his
courageousness to the utmost, for he might often find it needful.

Now upon the second lowering, the boat paddled upon the whale;
and as the fish received the darted iron, it gave its customary rap,
which happened, in this instance, to be right under poor Pip's seat.
The involuntary consternation of the moment caused him to leap,
paddle in hand, out of the boat; and in such a way, that part of the slack
whale line coming against his chest, he breasted it overboard with him,
so as to become entangled in it, when at last plumping into the water.
That instant the stricken whale started on a fierce run, the line
swiftly straightened; and presto! poor Pip came all foaming up
to the chocks of the boat, remorselessly dragged there by the line,
which had taken several turns around his chest and neck.

Tashtego stood in the bows.  He was full of the fire of the hunt.
He hated Pip for a poltroon.  Snatching the boat-knife from its sheath,
he suspended its sharp edge over the line, and turning towards Stubb,
exclaimed interrogatively, "Cut?"  Meantime Pip's blue, choked face
plainly looked, Do, for God's sake!  All passed in a flash.
In less than half a minute, this entire thing happened.

"Damn him, cut!" roared Stubb; and so the whale was lost
and Pip was saved.

So soon as he recovered himself, the poor little negro was assailed
by yells and execrations from the crew.  Tranquilly permitting
these irregular cursings to evaporate, Stubb then in a plain,
business-like, but still half humorous manner, cursed Pip officially;
and that done, unofficially gave him much wholesome advice.
The substance was, Never jump from a boat, Pip, except--but all
the rest was indefinite, as the soundest advice ever is.
Now, in general, Stick to the boat, is your true motto in whaling;
but cases will sometimes happen when Leap from the boat, is still better.
Moreover, as if perceiving at last that if he should give undiluted
conscientious advice to Pip, he would be leaving him too wide a margin
to jump in for the future; Stubb suddenly dropped all advice,
and concluded with a peremptory command "Stick to the boat, Pip,
or by the Lord, I won't pick you up if you jump; mind that.
We can't afford to lose whales by the likes of you; a whale would sell
for thirty times what you would, Pip, in Alabama.  Bear that in mind,
and don't jump any more."  Hereby perhaps Stubb indirectly hinted,
that though man loved his fellow, yet man is a money-making animal,
which propensity too often interferes with his benevolence.

But we are all in the hands of the Gods; and Pip jumped again.
It was under very similar circumstances to the first performance;
but this time he did not breast out the line; and hence, when the whale
started to run, Pip was left behind on the sea, like a hurried
traveller's trunk.  Alas!  Stubb was but too true to his word.
It was a beautiful, bounteous, blue day! the spangled sea calm
and cool, and flatly stretching away, all round, to the horizon,
like gold-beater's skin hammered out to the extremest.  Bobbing up
and down in that sea, Pip's ebon head showed like a head of cloves.
No boat-knife was lifted when he fell so rapidly astern.
Stubb's inexorable back was turned upon him; and the whale was winged.
In three minutes, a whole mile of shoreless ocean was between
Pip and Stubb.  Out from the centre of the sea, poor Pip turned
his crisp, curling, black head to the sun, another lonely castaway,
though the loftiest and the brightest.

Now, in calm weather, to swim in the open ocean is as easy
to the practised swimmer as to ride in a spring-carriage ashore.
But the awful lonesomeness is intolerable.  The intense concentration
of self in the middle of such a heartless immensity, my God! who can
tell it?  Mark, how when sailors in a dead calm bathe in the open sea--
mark how closely they hug their ship and only coast along her sides.

But had Stubb really abandoned the poor little negro
to his fate?  No; he did not mean to, at least.
Because there were two boats in his wake, and he supposed,
no doubt, that they would of course come up to Pip very quickly,
and pick him up; though, indeed, such considerations towards
oarsmen jeopardized through their own timidity, is not
always manifested by the hunters in all similar instances;
and such instances not unfrequently occur; almost invariably
in the fishery, a coward, so called, is marked with the same
ruthless detestation peculiar to military navies and armies.