524 
MOBY DICK; OR 
Ahab staggered ; his hand smote his forehead. “I grow blind ; hands ! 
stretch out before me that I may yet grope my way. Is’t nigh V ’ 
“The whale! The ship!” cried the cringing oarsmen. 
“Oars ! oars ! Slope downwards to thy depths, 0 sea, that ere it be 
for ever too late, Ahab may slide this last, last time upon his mark! 
I see: the ship! the ship! Dash on, my men! Will ye not save my 
ship ?” 
But as the oarsmen violently forced their boat through the sledge- 
hammering seas, the before whale-smitten how-ends of two planks burst 
through, and in an instant almost, the temporarily disabled boat lay 
nearly level with the waves; its half-wading, splashing crew, trying 
hard to stop the gap and bale out the pouring water. 
Meantime, for that one beholding instant, Tashtego’s mast-head 
hammer remained suspended in his hand; and the red flag, half-wrap- 
ping him as with a plaid, then streamed itself straight out from him, 
as his own forward-flowing heart ; while Starbuck and Stubh, standing 
upon the bowsprit beneath, caught sight of the down-coming monster 
just as soon as he. 
“The whale, the whale! Up helm, up helm! Oh, all ye sweet 
powers of air, now hug me close ! Let not Starbuck die, if die he must, 
in a woman’s fainting fit. Up helm, I say — ye fools, the jaw! the 
jaw! Is this the end of all my bursting prayers? all my life-long 
fidelities ? Oh, Ahab, Ahab, lo, thy work. Steady ! helmsman, steady. 
Hay, nay! Up helm again! He turns to meet us! Oh, his unap- 
peasable brow drives on towards one, whose duty tells him he cannot 
depart. My God, stand by me now ! 
“Stand not by me, hut stand under me, whoever you are that will 
now help Stubb; for Stubh, too, sticks here. I grin at thee, thou 
grinning whale! Whoever helped Stubb, or kept Stubb awake, but 
Stubb’s own unwinking eye ? And now poor Stubb goes to bed upon a 
mattress that is all too soft ; would it were stuffed with brushwood ! I 
grin at thee, thou grinning whale! Look ye, moon and stars! I 
call ye assassins of as good a fellow as ever spouted up his ghost. For 
all that, I would yet ring glasses with ye, would ye but hand the cup ! 
Oh, oh, oh, oh ! thou grinning whale, hut there’ll be plenty of gulping 
soon! Why fly ye not, O, Ahab? For me, off shoes and jacket to it; 
let Stubb die in his drawers! A most mouldy and over-salted death, 
