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_ During the most violent shocks of the Typhoon, the man at the
Pequod's jaw-bone tiller had several times been reelingly hurled to
the deck by its spasmodic motions, even though preventer tackles had
been attached to it--for they were slack--because some play to the
tiller was indispensable.
In a severe gale like this, while the ship is but a tossed
shuttlecock to the blast, it is by no means uncommon to see the
needles in the compasses, at intervals, go round and round. It was
thus with the Pequod's; at almost every shock the helmsman had not
failed to notice the whirling velocity with which they revolved upon
the cards; it is a sight that hardly anyone can behold without some
sort of unwonted emotion.
Some hours after midnight, the Typhoon abated so much, that through
the strenuous exertions of Starbuck and Stubb--one engaged forward
and the other aft--the shivered remnants of the jib and fore and
main-top-sails were cut adrift from the spars, and went eddying away
to leeward, like the feathers of an albatross, which sometimes are
cast to the winds when that storm-tossed bird is on the wing.
The three corresponding new sails were now bent and reefed, and a
storm-trysail was set further aft; so that the ship soon went through
the water with some precision again; and the course--for the present,
East-south-east--which he was to steer, if practicable, was once more
given to the helmsman. For during the violence of the gale, he had
only steered according to its vicissitudes. But as he was now
bringing the ship as near her course as possible, watching the
compass meanwhile, lo! a good sign! the wind seemed coming round
astern; aye, the foul breeze became fair!
Instantly the yards were squared, to the lively song of "HO! THE FAIR
WIND! OH-YE-HO, CHEERLY MEN!" the crew singing for joy, that so
promising an event should so soon have falsified the evil portents
preceding it.
In compliance with the standing order of his commander--to report
immediately, and at any one of the twenty-four hours, any decided
change in the affairs of the deck,--Starbuck had no sooner trimmed
the yards to the breeze--however reluctantly and gloomily,--than he
mechanically went below to apprise Captain Ahab of the circumstance.
Ere knocking at his state-room, he involuntarily paused before it a
moment. The cabin lamp--taking long swings this way and that--was
burning fitfully, and casting fitful shadows upon the old man's
bolted door,--a thin one, with fixed blinds inserted, in place of
upper panels. The isolated subterraneousness of the cabin made a
certain humming silence to reign there, though it was hooped round by
all the roar of the elements. The loaded muskets in the rack were
shiningly revealed, as they stood upright against the forward
bulkhead. Starbuck was an honest, upright man; but out of Starbuck's
heart, at that instant when he saw the muskets, there strangely
evolved an evil thought; but so blent with its neutral or good
accompaniments that for the instant he hardly knew it for itself.
"He would have shot me once," he murmured, "yes, there's the very
musket that he pointed at me;--that one with the studded stock; let
me touch it--lift it. Strange, that I, who have handled so many
deadly lances, strange, that I should shake so now. Loaded? I must
see. Aye, aye; and powder in the pan;--that's not good. Best spill
it?--wait. I'll cure myself of this. I'll hold the musket boldly
while I think.--I come to report a fair wind to him. But how fair?
Fair for death and doom,--THAT'S fair for Moby Dick. It's a fair
wind that's only fair for that accursed fish.--The very tube he
pointed at me!--the very one; THIS one--I hold it here; he would have
killed me with the very thing I handle now.--Aye and he would fain
kill all his crew. Does he not say he will not strike his spars to
any gale? Has he not dashed his heavenly quadrant? and in these same
perilous seas, gropes he not his way by mere dead reckoning of the
error-abounding log? and in this very Typhoon, did he not swear that
he would have no lightning-rods? But shall this crazed old man be
tamely suffered to drag a whole ship's company down to doom with
him?--Yes, it would make him the wilful murderer of thirty men and
more, if this ship come to any deadly harm; and come to deadly harm,
my soul swears this ship will, if Ahab have his way. If, then, he
were this instant--put aside, that crime would not be his. Ha! is he
muttering in his sleep? Yes, just there,--in there, he's sleeping.
Sleeping? aye, but still alive, and soon awake again. I can't
withstand thee, then, old man. Not reasoning; not remonstrance; not
entreaty wilt thou hearken to; all this thou scornest. Flat
obedience to thy own flat commands, this is all thou breathest. Aye,
and say'st the men have vow'd thy vow; say'st all of us are Ahabs.
Great God forbid!--But is there no other way? no lawful way?--Make
him a prisoner to be taken home? What! hope to wrest this old man's
living power from his own living hands? Only a fool would try it.
Say he were pinioned even; knotted all over with ropes and hawsers;
chained down to ring-bolts on this cabin floor; he would be more
hideous than a caged tiger, then. I could not endure the sight;
could not possibly fly his howlings; all comfort, sleep itself,
inestimable reason would leave me on the long intolerable voyage.
What, then, remains? The land is hundreds of leagues away, and
locked Japan the nearest. I stand alone here upon an open sea, with
two oceans and a whole continent between me and law.--Aye, aye, 'tis
so.--Is heaven a murderer when its lightning strikes a would-be
murderer in his bed, tindering sheets and skin together?--And would I
be a murderer, then, if"--and slowly, stealthily, and half sideways
looking, he placed the loaded musket's end against the door.
"On this level, Ahab's hammock swings within; his head this way. A
touch, and Starbuck may survive to hug his wife and child again.--Oh
Mary! Mary!--boy! boy! boy!--But if I wake thee not to death, old
man, who can tell to what unsounded deeps Starbuck's body this day
week may sink, with all the crew! Great God, where art Thou? Shall
I? shall I?--The wind has gone down and shifted, sir; the fore and
main topsails are reefed and set; she heads her course."
"Stern all! Oh Moby Dick, I clutch thy heart at last!"
Such were the sounds that now came hurtling from out the old man's
tormented sleep, as if Starbuck's voice had caused the long dumb
dream to speak.
The yet levelled musket shook like a drunkard's arm against the
panel; Starbuck seemed wrestling with an angel; but turning from the
door, he placed the death-tube in its rack, and left the place.
"He's too sound asleep, Mr. Stubb; go thou down, and wake him, and
tell him. I must see to the deck here. Thou know'st what to say." _
Read next: CHAPTER 124 The Needle.
Read previous: CHAPTER 122 Midnight Aloft.--Thunder and Lightning
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