58 MOBY DICK; OR 
another world, more strangely than the moon would to an Earthsman. 
With the landless gull, that at sunset folds her wings and is rocked to 
sleep between billows; so at nightfall, the Nantucketer, out of sight of 
land, furls his sails, and lays him to his rest, while under his very 
pillow rush herds of walruses and whales. 
CHAPTER XV 
CHOWDER 
It was quite late in the evening when the little Moss came snugly to 
anchor, and Queequeg and I went ashore ; so we could attend to no busi- 
ness that day, at least none but a supper and a bed. The landlord of 
the Spouter-Inn had recommended us to his cousin Hosea Hussey of the 
Twy Pots, whom he asserted to he the proprietor of one of the best kept 
hotels in all Nantucket, and moreover he had assured us that Cousin 
Hosea, as he called him, was famous for his chowders. In short, he 
plainly hinted that we could not possibly do better than try pot-luck at 
the Twy Pots. But the direction he had given us about keeping a 
yellow warehouse on our starboard hand till we opened a white church to 
the larboard, and then keeping that on the larboard hand till we made a 
corner three points to the starboard, and that done, then ask the first 
man we met where the place was : these crooked directions of his very 
much puzzled us at first, especially as, at the outset, Queequeg insisted 
that the yellow warehouse — our first point of departure — must be left 
on the larboard hand, whereas I had understood Peter Coffin to say it 
was on the starboard. However, by dint of beating about a little in the 
dark, and now and then knocking up a peaceable inhabitant to inquire 
the way, we at' last came to something which there was no mistaking. 
Two enormous wooden pots painted black, and suspended by asses’ 
ears, swung from the cross-trees of an old topmast, planted in front of 
an old doorway. The horns of the cross-trees were sawed off on the 
other side, so that this old topmast looked not a little like a gallows. 
Perhaps I was oversensitive to such impressions at the time, but I 
could not help staring at this gallows with a vague misgiving. A sort 
of crick was in my neck as I gazed up to the two remaining horns ; yes, 
