CHAPTER 22

  Merry Christmas

  At length, towards noon, upon the final dismissal of the ship's

riggers, and after the Pequod had been hauled out from the wharf,

and after the ever-thoughtful Charity had come off in a whale-boat,

with her last gift- a nightcap for Stubb, the second mate, her

brother-in-law, and a spare Bible for the steward- after all this, the

two Captains, Peleg and Bildad, issued from the cabin, and turning

to the chief mate, Peleg said:

  "Now, Mr. Starbuck, are you sure everything is right? Captain Ahab

is all ready- just spoke to him- nothing more to be got from shore,

eh? Well, call all hands, then. Muster 'em aft here- blast 'em!"

  "No need of profane words, however great the hurry, Peleg," said

Bildad, "but away with thee, friend Starbuck, and do our bidding."

  How now! Here upon the very point of starting for the voyage,

Captain Peleg and Captain Bildad were going it with a high hand on the

quarter-deck, just as if they were to be joint-commanders at sea, as

well as to all appearances in port. And, as for Captain Ahab, no

sign of him was yet to be seen; only, they said he was in the cabin.

But then, the idea was, that his presence was by no means necessary in

getting the ship under weigh, and steering her well out to sea.

Indeed, as that was not at all his proper business, but the pilot's;

and as he was not yet completely recovered- so they said- therefore,

Captain Ahab stayed below. And all this seemed natural enough;

especially as in the merchant service many captains never show

themselves on deck for a considerable time after heaving up the

anchor, but remain over the cabin table, having a farewell

merry-making with their shore friends, before they quit the ship for

good with the pilot.

  But there was not much chance to think over the matter, for

Captain Peleg was now all alive. He seemed to do most of the talking

and commanding, and not Bildad.

  "Aft here, ye sons of bachelors," he cried, as the sailors

lingered at the main-mast. "Mr. Starbuck, drive aft."

  "Strike the tent there!"- was the next order. As I hinted before,

this whalebone marquee was never pitched except in port; and on

board the Pequod, for thirty years, the order to strike the tent was

well known to be the next thing to heaving up the anchor.

  "Man the capstan! Blood and thunder!- jump!"- was the next

command, and the crew sprang for the handspikes.

  Now in getting under weigh, the station generally occupied by the

pilot is the forward part of the ship. And here Bildad, who, with

Peleg, be it known, in addition to his other officers, was one of

the licensed pilots of the port- he being suspected to have got

himself made a pilot in order to save the Nantucket pilot-fee to all

the ships he was concerned in, for he never piloted any other craft-

Bildad, I say, might now be seen actively engaged in looking over

the bows for the approaching anchor, and at intervals singing what

seemed a dismal stave of psalmody, to cheer the hands at the windlass,

who roared forth some sort of chorus about the girls in Booble

Alley, with hearty good will. Nevertheless, not three days previous,

Bildad had told them that no profane songs would be allowed on board

the Pequod, particularly in getting under weigh; and Charity, his

sister, had placed a small choice copy of Watts in each seaman's

berth.

  Meantime, overseeing the other part of the ship, Captain Peleg

ripped and swore astern in the most frightful manner. I almost thought

he would sink the ship before the anchor could be got up;

involuntarily I paused on my handspike, and told Queequeg to do the

same, thinking of the perils we both ran, in starting on the voyage

with such a devil for a pilot. I was comforting myself, however,

with the thought that in pious Bildad might be found some salvation,

spite of his seven hundred and seventy-seventh lay; when I felt a

sudden sharp poke in my rear, and turning round, was horrified at

the apparition of Captain Peleg in the art of withdrawing his leg from

my immediate vicinity. That was my first kick.

  "Is that the way they heave in the marchant service?" he roared.

"Spring, thou sheep-head; spring, and break thy backbone! Why don't ye

spring, I say, all of ye- spring! Quohog! spring, thou chap with the

red whiskers; spring there, Scotch-cap; spring, thou green pants.

Spring, I say, all of ye, and spring your eyes out!" And so saying, he

moved along the windlass, here and there using his leg very freely,

while imperturbable Bildad kept leading off with his psalmody.

Thinks I, Captain Peleg must have been drinking something to-day.

  At last the anchor was up, the sails were set, and off we glided. It

was a short, cold Christmas; and as the short northern day merged into

night, we found ourselves almost broad upon the wintry ocean, whose

freezing spray cased us in ice, as in polished armor. The long rows of

teeth on the bulwarks glistened in the moonlight; and like the white

ivory tusks of some huge elephant, vast curving icicles depended

from the bows.

  Lank Bildad, as pilot, headed the first watch, and ever and anon, as

the old craft deep dived into the green seas, and sent the shivering

frost all over her, and the winds howled, and the cordage rang, his

steady notes were heard,-

  "Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood,

  Stand dressed in living green.

  So to the Jews old Canaan stood,

  While Jordan rolled between."

  Never did those sweet words sound more sweetly to me than then. They

were full of hope and fruition. Spite of this frigid winter night in

the boisterous Atlantic, spite of my wet feet and wetter jacket, there

was yet, it then seemed to me, many a pleasant haven in store; and

meads and glades so eternally vernal, that the grass shot up by the

spring, untrodden, unwilted, remains at midsummer.

  At last we gained such an offing, that the two pilots were needed no

longer. The stout sail-boat that had accompanied us began ranging

alongside.

  It was curious and not unpleasing, how Peleg and Bildad were

affected at this juncture, especially Captain Bildad. For loath to

depart, yet; very loath to leave, for good, a ship bound on so long

and perilous a voyage- beyond both stormy Capes; a ship in which

some thousands of his hardearned dollars were invested; a ship, in

which an old shipmate sailed as captain; a man almost as old as he,

once more starting to encounter all the terrors of the pitiless jaw;

loath to say good-bye to a thing so every way brimful of every

interest to him,- poor old Bildad lingered long; paced the deck with

anxious strides; ran down into the cabin to speak another farewell

word there; again came on deck, and looked to windward; looked towards

the wide and endless waters, only bound by the far-off unseen

Eastern Continents; looked towards the land; looked aloft; looked

right and left; looked everywhere and nowhere; and at last,

mechanically coiling a rope upon its pin, convulsively grasped stout

Peleg by the hand, and holding up a lantern, for a moment stood gazing

heroically in his face, as much as to say, "Nevertheless, friend

Peleg, I can stand it; yes, I can."

  As for Peleg himself, he took it more like a philosopher; but for

all his philosophy, there was a tear twinkling in his eye, when the

lantern came too near. And he, too, did not a little run from the

cabin to deck- now a word below, and now a word with Starbuck, the

chief mate.

  But, at last, he turned to his comrade, with a final sort of look

about him,- "Captain Bildad- come, old shipmate, we must go. Back

the mainyard there! Boat ahoy! Stand by to come close alongside,

now! Careful, careful!- come, Bildad, boy- say your last. Luck to

ye, Starbuck- luck to ye, Mr. Stubb- luck to ye, Mr. Flask- good-bye

and good luck to ye all- and this day three years I'll have a hot

supper smoking for ye in old Nantucket. Hurrah and away!"

  "God bless ye, and have ye in His holy keeping, men," murmured old

Bildad, almost incoherently. "I hope ye'll have fine weather now, so

that Captain Ahab may soon be moving among ye- a pleasant sun is all

he needs, and ye'll have plenty of them in the tropic voyage ye go. Be

careful in the hunt, ye mates. Don't stave the boats needlessly, ye

harpooneers; good white cedar plank is raised full three per cent

within the year. Don't forget your prayers, either. Mr. Starbuck, mind

that cooper don't waste the spare staves. Oh! the sail-needles are

in the green locker. Don't whale it too much a' Lord's days, men;

but don't miss a fair chance either, that's rejecting Heaven's good

gifts. Have an eye to the molasses tierce, Mr. Stubb; it was a

little leaky, I thought. If ye touch at the islands, Mr. Flask, beware

of fornication. Good-bye, good-bye! Don't keep that cheese too long

down in the hold, Mr. Starbuck; it'll spoil. Be careful with the

butter- twenty cents the pound it was, and mind ye, if--"

  "Come, come, Captain Bildad; stop palavering,- away!" and with that,

Peleg hurried him over the side, and both dropt into the boat.

  Ship and boat diverged; the cold, damp night breeze blew between;

a screaming gull flew overhead; the two hulls wildly rolled; we gave

three heavy-hearted cheers, and blindly plunged like fate into the

lone Atlantic.