CHAPTER 49
The Hyena
There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixedaffair we call life when a man takes this whole universe for a vastpractical joke, though the wit thereof he but dimly discerns,and more than suspects that the joke is at nobody's expense but his own.However, nothing dispirits, and nothing seems worth while disputing.He bolts down all events, all creeds, and beliefs, and persuasions,all hard things visible and invisible, never mind how knobby;as an ostrich of potent digestion gobbles down bullets and gun flints.And as for small difficulties and worryings, prospects of suddendisaster, peril of life and limb; all these, and death itself,seem to him only sly, good-natured hits, and jolly punchesin the side bestowed by the unseen and unaccountable old joker.That odd sort of wayward mood I am speaking of, comes over a manonly in some time of extreme tribulation; it comes in the very midstof his earnestness, so that what just before might have seemed to hima thing most momentous, now seems but a part of the general joke.There is nothing like the perils of whaling to breed this free and easysort of genial, desperado philosophy; and with it I now regarded thiswhole voyage of the Pequod, and the great White Whale its object.
"Queequeg," said I, when they had dragged me, the last man, to the deck,and I was still shaking myself in my jacket to fling off the water;"Queequeg, my fine friend, does this sort of thing often happen?"Without much emotion, though soaked through just like me, he gave meto understand that such things did often happen.
"Mr. Stubb," said I, turning to that worthy, who, buttoned up in hisoil-jacket, was now calmly smoking his pipe in the rain; "Mr. Stubb, Ithink I have heard you say that of all whalemen you ever met,our chief mate, Mr. Starbuck, is by far the most careful and prudent.I suppose then, that going plump on a flying whale with your sailset in a foggy squall is the height of a whaleman's discretion?"
"Certain. I've lowered for whales from a leaking ship in a galeoff Cape Horn."
"Mr. Flask," said I, turning to little King-Post, who was standingclose by; "you are experienced in these things, and I am not.Will you tell me whether it is an unalterable law in this fishery,Mr. Flask, for an oarsman to break his own back pulling himselfback-foremost into death's jaws?"
"Can't you twist that smaller?" said Flask. "Yes, that's the law.I should like to see a boat's crew backing water up to a whaleface foremost. Ha, ha! the whale would give them squintfor squint, mind that!"
Here then, from three impartial witnesses, I had a deliberatestatement of the entire case. Considering, therefore, that squallsand capsizings in the water and consequent bivouacks on the deep,were matters of common occurrence in this kind of life; considering thatat the superlatively critical instant of going on to the whale Imust resign my life into the hands of him who steered the boat--oftentimes a fellow who at that very moment is in his impetuousnessupon the point of scuttling the craft with his own frantic stampings;considering that the particular disaster to our own particular boatwas chiefly to be imputed to Starbuck's driving on to his whalealmost in the teeth of a squall, and considering that Starbuck,notwithstanding, was famous for his great heedfulness in the fishery;considering that I belonged to this uncommonly prudent Starbuck's boat;and finally considering in what a devil's chase I was implicated,touching the White Whale: taking all things together, I say,I thought I might as well go below and make a rough draft of my will."Queequeg," said I, "come along, you shall be my lawyer,executor, and legatee."
It may seem strange that of all men sailors should be tinkeringat their last wills and testaments, but there are no peoplein the world more fond of that diversion. This was the fourthtime in my nautical life that I had done the same thing.After the ceremony was concluded upon the present occasion,I felt all the easier; a stone was rolled away from my heart.Besides, all the days I should now live would be as good as the daysthat Lazarus lived after his resurrection; a supplementaryclean gain of so many months or weeks as the case may be.I survived myself; my death and burial were locked up in my chest.I looked round me tranquilly and contentedly, like a quietghost with a clean conscience sitting inside the bars of asnug family vault.
Now then, thought I, unconsciously rolling up the sleeves of my frock,here goes for a cool, collected dive at death and destruction,and the devil fetch the hindmost.