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MOBY DICK; OR 
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, Cap- 
tain Ahab stayed below. And all this seemed natural enough; es- 
pecially as in the merchant service many captains never show them- 
selves 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 Cap- 
tain 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 mainmast. “Mr. Starbuck, drive ’em 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. 
How, 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 offices, was one of the 
licensed pilots of the port — he being suspected to have got himself 
made a pilot in order to save the Hantucket 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 a chorus about the girls in Booble Alley, with hearty 
goodwill, nevertheless, not three days previous, Bildad had told them 
that no profane songs would be allowed on board the Pequod, par- 
ticularly 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 
