THE WHITE WHALE 69 
been studying those Scriptures, now, for the last thirty years, to my 
certain knowledge. How far ye got, Bildad?” 
As if long habituated to such profane talk from his old shipmate, 
Bildad, without noticing his present irreverence, quietly looked up, 
and seeing me, glanced again inquiringly towards Peleg. 
“He says he’s our man, Bildad,” said Peleg, “he wants to ship.” 
“Host thee?” said Bildad, in a hollow tone, and turning round 
to me. 
“I dost” said I unconsciously, he was so intense a Quaker. 
“What do ye think of him, Bildad ?” said Peleg. 
“He’ll do,” said Bildad, eyeing me, and then went on spelling away 
at his book in a mumbling tone quite audible. 
I thought him the queerest old Quaker I ever saw, especially as 
Peleg, his friend and old shipmate, seemed such a blusterer. But I 
said nothing, only looking round me sharply. Peleg now threw open 
a chest, and drawing forth the ship’s articles, placed pen and ink before 
him, and seated himself at a little table. I began to think it was high 
time to settle with myself at what terms I would be willing to engage 
for the voyage. I was already aware that in the whaling business they 
paid no wages; but all hands, including the captain, received certain 
shares of the profits called lays, and that these lays were proportioned 
to the degree of importance pertaining to the respective duties of the 
ship’s company. I was also aware that being a green hand at whSing, 
my own lay would not be very large ; but considering that I was used 
to the sea, could steer a ship, splice a rope, and all that, I made no 
doubt that from all I had heard I should be offered at least the 275th 
lay — that is the 275th part of the clear net proceeds of the voyage, 
whatever that might eventually amount to. And though the 275th lay 
was what they call a rather long lay, yet it was better than nothing; 
and if we had a lucky voyage, might pretty nearly pay for the clothing 
I would wear out on it, not to speak of my three years’ beef and board, 
for which I would not have to pay one stiver. 
It might be thought that this was a poor way to accumulate a 
princely fortune — and so it was, a very poor way indeed. But I am 
one of those that never take on about princely fortunes, and am quite 
content if the world is ready to board and lodge me, while I am put- 
ting up at this grim sign of the Thunder Cloud* Upon the whole, I 
