485 
THE WHITE WHALE 
Bad news, she brings bad news,” muttered the old Manxman; but 
ere her commander, who, with trumpet to mouth, stood up in his boat ; 
ere he could hopefully hail, Ahab’s voice was heard. 
“Hast seen the White Whale ?” 
“Ay e > yesterday. Have ye seen a whale-boat adrift ?” 
Throttling his joy, Ahab negatively answered this unexpected ques- 
tion; and would then have fain boarded the stranger, when the stran- 
ger Captain himself, having stopped his vessel’s way, was seen descend- 
ing her side. A few keen pulls, and his boat-hook soon clinched the 
Pequod s mainchains, and he sprang to the deck. Immediately he 
was recognised by Ahab for a Nantucketer he knew. But no formal 
salutation was exchanged. 
“Where was he? — not killed! — not killed!” cried Ahab, closely ad- 
vancing. “How was it ?” 
It seemed that somewhat late on the afternoon of the day previous, 
while three of the stranger’s boats were engaged with a shoal of whales, 
which had led them some four or five miles from the ship ; and while they 
were yet in swift chase to windward, the white hump and head of Moby 
Dick had suddenly loomed up out of the blue water, not very far to 
leeward ; whereupon, the fourth rigged boat — a reserved one — had been 
instantly lowered in chase. After a keen sail before the wind, this 
fourth boat — the swiftest keeled of all — seemed to have succeeded in 
fastening (at least, as well as a man at the masthead could tell any- 
thing about it). In the distance he saw the diminished dotted boat; 
and then a swift gleam of bubbling white water ; and after that nothing 
more; whence it was concluded that the stricken whale must have in- 
definitely run away with his pursuers, as often happens. There was 
some apprehension, but no positive alarm, as yet. The recall signals 
were placed in the rigging; darkness came on; and forced to pick up 
her three far to windward boats — ere going in quest of the fourth one 
in the precisely opposite direction — the ship had not only been neces- 
sitated to leave that boat to its fate till near midnight, but for the time, 
to increase her distance from it. But the rest of her crew being at last 
safe aboard, she crowded all sail — stunsail on stunsail — after the 
missing boat; kindling a fire in her try-pots for a beacon; and every 
man aloft on the lookout. But though when she had thus sailed a 
sufficient distance to gain the presumed place of the absent ones when 
