ames Tunnel; then, legs with roots to ’em, to stay in one place; then, arms three feet through the wrist; no heart at all, brass forehead, and about a quarter of an acre of fine brains; and let me see—shall I order eyes to see outwards? No, but put a sky-light on top of his head to illuminate inwards. ere, take the order, and away.

Now, what’s he speaking about, and who’s he speaking to, I should like to know? Shall I keep standing here? (Aside)

’Tis but indifferent architeure to make a blind dome; here’s one. No, no, no; I must have a lantern.

Ho, ho! at’s it, hey? Here are two, Sir; one will serve my turn.

What art thou thrusting that thief-catcher into my face for, man? thrusted light is worse than presented pistols.

I thought, Sir, that you spoke to carpenter.

Carpenter? why that’s—but no;—a very tidy, and, I may say, an extremely gentlemanlike sort of business thou art in here, carpenter;—or would’st thou rather work in clay?

Sir?—Clay? clay, Sir? at’s mud; we leave clay to ditchers, Sir.

e fellow’s impious! What art thou sneezing about?

Bone is rather dusty, Sir.

Take the hint, then; and when thou art dead, never bury thyself under living people’s noses.

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Sir? —oh! ah!—I guess so; so;—yes, yes—oh dear!

Look ye, carpenter, I dare say thou callest thyself a right good workmanlike workman, eh! Well, then, will it speak thoroughly well for thy work, if, when I come to mount this leg thou makest, I shall nevertheless feel another leg in the same identical place with it; that is, carpenter, my old lost leg; the flesh and blood one, I mean. Canst thou not drive that old Adam away?

Truly, Sir, I begin to understand somewhat now. Yes, I have heard something curious on that score, Sir; how that a dismasted man never entirely loses the feeling of his old spar, but it will be still pricking him at times. May I humbly ask if it be really so, Sir?

It is, man. Look, put thy live leg here in the place where mine once was; so, now, here is only one distin leg to the eye,

yet two to the soul. Where thou feelest tingling life; there, exaly there, there to a hair, do I. Is’t a riddle?

I should humbly call it a poser, Sir.

Hist, then. How dost thou know that some entire, living, thinking thing may not be invisibly and uninterpenetratingly standing precisely where thou now standest; aye, and standing there in thy spite? In thy most solitary hours, then, dost thou not fear eavesdroppers? Hold, don’t speak! And if I still feel the smart of my crushed leg, though it be now so long dissolved; then, why mayest not thou, carpenter, feel the fiery pains of hell for ever, and without a body? Hah!

Good Lord! Truly, Sir, if it comes to that, I must calculate over again; I think I didn’t carry a small figure, Sir.

Look ye, pudding-heads should never grant premises.—How long before this leg is done?

Perhaps an hour, Sir.

Bungle away at it then, and bring it to me (turns to go). Oh, Life! Here I am, proud as Greek god, and yet standing debtor to this blockhead for a bone to stand on! Cursed be that mortal inter-indebtedness which will not do away with ledgers. I would be free as air; and I’m down in the whole world’s books. I am so rich, I could have given bid for bid with the wealthiest Praetorians at the auion of the Roman empire (which was the world’s); and yet I owe for the flesh in the tongue I brag with. By heavens! I’ll get a crucible, and into it, and dissolve myself down to one small, compendious vertebra. So.

Carpenter Resuming his work

Well, well, well! Stubb knows him best of all, and Stubb always says he’s queer; says nothing but that one sufficient little word queer; he’s queer, says Stubb; he’s queer—queer, queer; and keeps dinning it into Mr. Starbuck all the time—queer, Sir—queer, queer, very queer. And here’s his leg! Yes, now that I think of it, here’s his bedfellow! has a stick of whale’s jaw-bone for a wife! And this is his leg; he’ll stand on this. What was that now about one leg standing in three places,

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and all three places standing in one hell—how was that? Oh! I don’t wonder he looked so scornful at me! I’m a sort of strange- thoughted sometimes, they say; but that’s only haphazard-like. en, a short, little old body like me, should never undertake to wade out into deep waters with tall, heron-built captains; the water chucks you under the chin pretty quick, and there’s a great cry for life- boats. And here’s the heron’s leg! long and slim, sure enough! Now, for most folks one pair of legs lasts a lifetime, and that must be because they use them mercifully, as a tender-hearted old lady uses her roly-poly old coach-horses. But Ahab; oh he’s a hard driver. Look, driven one leg to death, and spavined the other for life, and now wears out bone legs by the cord. Halloa, there, you Smut! bear a hand there with those screws, and let’s finish it before the resurreion fellow comes a-calling with his horn for all legs, true or false, as brewery-men go round colleing old beer barrels, to fill ’em up again. What a leg this is! It looks like a real live leg, filed down to nothing but the core; he’ll be standing on this to-morrow; he’ll be taking altitudes on it. Halloa! I almost forgot the little oval slate, smoothed ivory, where he figures up the latitude. So, so; chisel, file, and sand- paper, now!

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CHAPTER CI.

AHAB AND STARBUCK IN

THE CABIN

According to usage they were pumping the ship next morning; and lo! no inconsiderable oil came up with the water; the casks below must have sprung a bad leak.

Much concern was shown; and Starbuck went down into the cabin to report this unfavorable affair.

Now, from the South and West the Pequod was drawing nigh to Formosa and the Bashee Isles, between which lies one of the tropical outlets from the China waters into the Pacific. And so Starbuck found Ahab with a general chart of the oriental archipelagoes spread before him; and another separate one representing the long eastern coasts of the Japanese islands— Niphon, Matsmai, and Sikoke.

With his snow-white new ivory leg braced against the screwed leg of his table, and with a long pruning-hook of a jack-knife in his hand, the wondrous old man, with his back to the gangway door, was wrinkling his brow, and tracing his old courses again.

“Who’s there?” hearing the footstep at the door, but not turning round to it.

“On deck! Begone!”

“Captain Ahab mistakes; it is I. e oil in the hold is leaking, Sir. We must up Burtons and break out.”

“Up Burtons and break out? Now that we are nearing Japan; heave-to here for a week to tinker a parcel of old hoops?”

“Either do that, Sir, or waste in one day more oil than we may make good in a year. What we come twenty thousand miles to get is worth saving, Sir.”

“So it is, so it is; if we get it.”

“I was speaking of the oil in the hold, Sir.”

“And I was not speaking or thinking of that at all. Begone! Let it leak! I’m all aleak myself. Aye! leaks in leaks! not only full of leaky casks, but those leaky

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casks are in a leaky ship; and that’s a far worse plight than the Pequod’s, man. Yet I don’t stop to plug my leak; for who can find it in the deep-loaded hull; or how hope to plug it, even if found, in this life’s howling gale? Starbuck! I’ll not have the Burtons hoisted.”

“What will the owners say, Sir?”

“Let the owners stand on Nantucket beach and outyell the Typhoons. What cares Ahab? Owners, owners? ou art always prating to me, Starbuck, about those miserly owners, as if the owners were my conscience. But look ye, the only real owner of anything is its commander; and hark ye, my conscience is in this ship’s keel.—On deck!”

“Captain Ahab,” said the reddening mate, moving further into the cabin, with a daring so strangely respeful and cautious that it almost seemed not only every way seeking to avoid the slightest outward manifestation of itself, but within also seemed more than half distrustful of itself; “A better man than I might well pass over in thee what he would quickly enough resent in a younger man; aye! and in a happier, Captain Ahab.”

“Devils! Dost thou then so much as dare to critically think of me?—On deck!”

“Nay, Sir, not yet; I do entreat. And I do dare, Sir—to be forbearing! Shall we not understand each other better than hitherto, Captain Ahab?”