THE WHITE WHALE 
373 
ings, the drugged whale there, I mean; aye, and is content too with 
scraping the dry bones of that other precious fish he has there. Poor 
devil ! I say, pass round a hat, some one, and let’s make him a present 
of a little oil for dear charity’s sake. For what oil he’ll get from that 
drugged whale there, wouldn’t be fit to burn in a jail; no, not in a 
condemned cell. And as for the other whale, why, I’ll agree to get more 
oil by chopping up and trying out these three masts of ours, than he’ll 
get from that bundle of bones ; though, now that I think of it, it may 
contain something worth a good deal more than oil ; yes, ambergris. I 
wonder now if our old man has thought of that. It’s worth trying. 
Yes, I’m in for it” ; and so saying he started for the quarter-deck. 
By this time the faint air had become a complete calm; so that 
whether or no, the Pequod was now fairly entrapped in the smell, with 
no hope of escaping except by its breezing up again. Issuing from 
the cabin, Stubb now called his boat’s crew, and pulled off for the 
stranger. Drawing across her bow, he perceived that in accordance 
with the fanciful French taste, the upper part of her stem-piece was 
carved in the likeness of a huge drooping stalk, was painted green, and 
for thorns had copper spikes projecting from it here and there; the 
whole terminating in a symmetrical folded bulb of a bright red colour. 
Upon her headboards, in large gilt letters, he read “Bouton-de-Rose ,” — 
Rosebutton, or Rosebud; and this was the romantic name of this aro- 
matic ship. 
Though Stubb did not understand the Bouton part of the inscription, 
yet the word rose , and the bulbous figure-head put together, sufficiently 
explained the whole to him. 
“A wooden rosebud, eh ?” he cried with his hands to his nose ; “that 
will do very well ; but how like all creation it smells !” 
Now in order to hold direct communication with the people on deck, 
he had to pull round the bows to the starboard side, and thus come close 
to the blasted whale ; and so talk over it. 
Arrived then at this spot, with one hand still to his nose, he bawled 
— “Bouton-de-Rose, ahoy! are there any of you Bouton-de-Roses that 
speak English ?” 
“Yes,” rejoined a Guernsey man from the bulwarks, who turned out 
to be the chief mate. 
