54 
MOBY DICK; OR 
fires and forges to melt the pitch, all betokening that new cruises were 
on the start; that one most perilous and long voyage ended, only be- 
gins a second ; and a second ended, only begins a third, and so on, for 
ever and for aye. Such is the endlessness, yea, the intolerableness of 
all earthly effort. 
Gaining the more open water, the bracing breeze waxed fresh; the 
little Moss tossed the quick foam from her bows, as a young colt his 
snortings. How I snuffed that Tartar air ! — how I spurned that turn- 
pike earth ! — that common highway all over dented with the marks 
of slavish heels and hoofs ; and turned me to admire the magnanimity 
of the sea which will permit no records. 
At the same foam-fountain, Queequeg seemed to drink and reel with 
me. His dusky nostrils swelled apart ; he showed his filed and pointed 
teeth. On, on we flew ; and our offing gained, the Moss did homage to 
the blast; ducked and dived her bows as a slave before the Sultan. 
Sideways leaning, we sideways darted; every ropeyarn tingling like 
a wire ; the two tall masts buckling like Indian canes in land tornadoes. 
So full of this reeling scene were we, as we stood by the plunging bow- 
sprit, that for some time we did not notice the jeering glances of the 
passengers, a lubber-like assembly, who marvelled that two fellow-be- 
ings should be so companionable; as though a white man were any- 
thing more dignified than a whitewashed negro. But there were some 
boobies and bumpkins there, who, by their intense greenness, must have 
come from the heart and centre of all verdure. Queequeg caught one 
of these young saplings mimicking him behind his back. I thought 
the bumpkin’s hour of doom was come. Dropping his harpoon, the 
brawny savage caught him in his arms, and by an almost miraculous 
dexterity and strength sent him high up bodily into the air; then 
slightly tapping his stem in mid-somerset, the fellow landed with 
bursting lungs upon his feet, while Queequeg, turning his back upon 
him, lighted his tomahawk pipe and passed it to me for a puff. 
“Capting! Capting!” yelled the bumpkin, running towards that offi- 
cer; “Capting, Capting, here’s the devil.” 
“Hallo, you sir,” cried the Captain, a gaunt rib of the sea, stalking 
up to Queequeg, “what in thunder do you mean by that ? Don’t you 
know you might have killed that chap ?” 
“What him say ?” said Queequeg, as he mildly turned to me. 
