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this spinal branch of phrenology to the Sperm Whale. His cranial cavity is continuous with the first neck-vertebra; and in that vertebra the bottom of the spinal canal will measure ten inches across, being eight in height, and of a triangular figure with the base downwards. As it passes through the remaining vertebrƦ the canal tapers in size, but for a considerable distance remains of large capacity. Now, of course, this canal is filled with much the same strangely fibrous substanceā€”the spinal cordā€”as the brain; and directly communicates with the brain. And what is still more, for many feet after emerging from the brainā€™s cavity, the spinal cord remains of an undecreasing girth, almost equal to that of the brain. Under all these circumstances, would it be unreasonable to survey and map out the whaleā€™s spine phrenologically? For, viewed in this light, the wonderful comparative smallness of his brain proper is more than compensated by the wonderful comparative magnitude of his spinal cord.

But leaving this hint to operate as it may with the phrenologists, I would merely assume the spinal theory for a moment, in reference to the sperm whaleā€™s hump. This august hump, if I mistake not, rises over one of the larger vertebrƦ, and is, therefore, in some sort, the outer convex mould of it. From its relative situation then, I should call this high hump the organ of firmness or indomitableness in the Sperm Whale. And that the great monster is indomitable, you will yet have reason to know.

CHAPTER LXXXI.
THE PEQUOD MEETS THE VIRGIN

The predestinated day arrived, and we duly met the ship Jungfrau, Derick De Deer, master, of Bremen.

At one time the greatest whaling people in the world, the Dutch and Germans are now among the least; but here and there at very wide intervals of latitude and longitude, you still occasionally meet with their flag in the Pacific.

For some reason, the Jungfrau seemed quite eager to pay her respects. While yet some distance from the Pequod, she rounded to, and dropping a boat, her captain was impelled towards us, impatiently standing in the bows instead of the stern.

ā€œWhat has he in his hand there?ā€ cried Starbuck, pointing to something wavingly held by the German. ā€œImpossible!ā€”a lamp-feeder!ā€

ā€œNot that,ā€ said Stubb, ā€œno, no, itā€™s a coffee-pot, Mr. Starbuck; heā€™s coming off to make us our coffee, is the Yarman; donā€™t you see that big tin can there alongside of him?ā€”thatā€™s his boiling water. Oh! heā€™s all right, is the Yarman.ā€

ā€œGo along with you,ā€ cried Flask, ā€œitā€™s a lamp-feeder and an oil-can. Heā€™s out of oil, and has come a-begging.ā€

However curious it may seem for an oil-ship to be borrowing oil on the whale-ground, and however much it may invertedly contradict the old proverb about carrying coals to Newcastle, yet sometimes such a thing really happens; and in the present case Captain Derick De Deer did indubitably conduct a lamp-feeder as Flask did declare.

As he mounted the deck, Ahab abruptly accosted him, without at all heeding what he had in his hand; but in his broken lingo, the German soon evinced his complete ignorance of the White Whale; immediately turning the conversation to his lamp-feeder and oil can, with some remarks touching his having to turn into his hammock at night in profound darknessā€”his last drop of Bremen oil being gone, and not a single flying-fish yet captured to supply the deficiency; concluding by hinting that his ship was indeed what in the Fishery is technically called a clean one (that is, an empty one), well deserving the name of Jungfrau or the Virgin.

His necessities supplied, Derick departed; but he had not gained his shipā€™s side, when whales were almost simultaneously raised from the mast-heads of both vessels; and so eager for the chase was Derick, that without pausing to put his oil-can and lamp-feeder aboard, he slewed round his boat and made after the leviathan lamp-feeders.

Now, the game having risen to leeward, he and the other three German boats that soon followed him, had considerably the start of the Pequodā€™s keels. There were eight whales, an average pod. Aware of their danger, they were going all abreast with great speed straight before the wind, rubbing their flanks as closely as so many spans of horses in harness. They left a great, wide wake, as though continually unrolling a great wide parchment upon the sea.

Full in this rapid wake, and many fathoms in the rear, swam a huge, humped old bull, which by his comparatively slow progress, as well as by the unusual yellowish incrustations overgrowing him, seemed afflicted with the jaundice, or some other infirmity. Whether this whale belonged to the pod in advance, seemed questionable; for it is not customary for such venerable leviathans to be at all social. Nevertheless, he stuck to their wake, though indeed their back water must have retarded him, because the white-bone or swell at his broad muzzle was a dashed one, like the swell formed when two hostile currents meet. His spout was short, slow, and laborious; coming forth with a choking sort of gush, and spending itself in torn shreds, followed by strange subterranean commotions in him, which seemed to have egress at his other buried extremity, causing the waters behind him to upbubble.

ā€œWhoā€™s got some paregoric?ā€ said Stubb, ā€œhe has the stomach-ache, Iā€™m afraid. Lord, think of having half an acre of stomach-ache! Adverse winds are holding mad Christmas in him, boys. Itā€™s the first foul wind I ever knew to blow from astern; but look, did ever whale yaw so before? it must be, heā€™s lost his tiller.ā€

As an overladen Indiaman bearing down the Hindostan coast with a deck load of frightened horses, careens, buries, rolls, and wallows on her way; so did this old whale heave his aged bulk, and now and then partly turning over on his cumbrous rib-ends, expose the cause of his devious wake in the unnatural stump of his starboard fin. Whether he had lost that fin in battle, or had been born without it, it were hard to say.

ā€œOnly wait a bit, old chap, and Iā€™ll give ye a sling for that wounded arm,ā€ cried cruel Flask, pointing to the whale-line near him.

ā€œMind he donā€™t sling thee with it,ā€ cried Starbuck. ā€œGive way, or the German will have him.ā€

With one intent all the combined rival boats were pointed for this one fish, because not only was he the largest, and therefore the most valuable whale, but he was nearest to them, and the other whales were going with such great velocity, moreover, as almost to defy pursuit for the time. At this juncture, the Pequodā€™s keel had shot by the three German boats last lowered; but from the great start he had had, Derickā€™s boat still led the chase, though every moment neared by his foreign rivals. The only thing they feared, was, that from being already so nigh to his mark, he would be enabled to dart his iron before they could completely overtake and pass him. As for Derick, he seemed quite confident that this would be the case, and occasionally with a deriding gesture shook his lamp-feeder at the other boats.

ā€œThe ungracious and ungrateful dog!ā€ cried Starbuck; ā€œhe mocks and dares me with the very poor-box I filled for him not five minutes ago!ā€ā€”then in his old intense whisperā€”ā€œgive way, greyhounds! Dog to it!ā€

ā€œI tell ye what it is, menā€ā€”cried Stubb to his crewā€”ā€œItā€™s against my religion to get mad; but Iā€™d like to eat that villanous Yarmanā€”Pullā€”wonā€™t ye? Are ye going to let that rascal beat ye? Do ye love brandy? A hogshead of brandy, then, to the best man. Come, why donā€™t some of ye burst a blood-vessel? Whoā€™s that been dropping an anchor overboardā€”we donā€™t budge an inchā€”weā€™re becalmed. Halloo, hereā€™s grass growing in the boatā€™s bottomā€”and by the Lord, the mast thereā€™s budding. This wonā€™t do, boys. Look at that Yarman! The short and long of it is, men, will ye spit fire or not?ā€

ā€œOh! see the suds he makes!ā€ cried Flask, dancing up and downā€”ā€œWhat a humpā€”Oh, do pile on the beefā€”lays like a log! Oh! my lads, do springā€”slap-jacks and quohogs for supper, you know, my ladsā€”baked clams and muffinsā€”oh, do, do, springā€”heā€™s a hundred barrelerā€”donā€™t lose him nowā€”donā€™t oh, donā€™t!ā€”see that Yarmanā€”Oh! wonā€™t ye pull for your duff, my ladsā€”such a sog! such a sogger! Donā€™t ye love sperm? There goes three thousand dollars, men!ā€”a bank!ā€”a whole bank! The bank of England!ā€”Oh, do, do, do!ā€”Whatā€™s that Yarman about now?ā€

At this moment Derick was in the act of pitching his lamp-feeder at the advancing boats, and also his oil-can; perhaps with the double view of retarding his rivalsā€™ way, and at the same time economically accelerating his own by the momentary impetus of the backward toss.

ā€œThe unmannerly Dutch dogger!ā€ cried Stubb. ā€œPull now, men, like fifty thousand line-of-battle-ship loads of red-haired devils. What dā€™ye say, Tashtego; are you the man to snap your spine in two-and-twenty pieces for the honor of old Gay-head? What dā€™ye say?ā€

ā€œI say, pull like god-dam,ā€ā€”cried the Indian.

Fiercely, but evenly incited by the taunts of the German, the Pequodā€™s three boats now began ranging almost abreast; and, so disposed, momentarily neared him. In that fine, loose, chivalrous attitude of the headsman when drawing near to his prey, the three mates stood up proudly, occasionally backing the after oarsman with an exhilarating cry of, ā€œThere she slides, now! Hurrah for the white-ash breeze! Down with the Yarman! Sail over him!ā€

But so decided an original start had Derick had, that spite of all their gallantry, he would have proved the victor in this race, had not a righteous judgment descended upon him in a crab which caught the blade of his midship oarsman. While this clumsy lubber was striving to free his white-ash, and while, in consequence, Derickā€™s boat was nigh to capsizing, and he thundering away at his men in a mighty rage;ā€”that was a good time for Starbuck, Stubb, and Flask. With a shout, they took a mortal start forwards, and slantingly ranged up on the Germanā€™s quarter. An instant more, and all four boats were diagonically in the whaleā€™s immediate wake, while stretching from them, on both sides, was the foaming swell that he made.

It was a terrific, most pitiable, and maddening sight. The whale was now going head out, and sending his spout before him in a continual tormented jet; while his one poor fin beat his side in an agony of fright. Now to this hand, now to that, he yawed in his faltering flight, and still at every billow that he broke, he spasmodically sank in the sea, or sideways rolled towards the sky his one beating fin. So have I seen a bird with clipped wing, making affrighted broken circles in the air, vainly striving to escape the piratical hawks. But the bird has a voice, and with plaintive cries will make known her fear; but the fear of this vast dumb brute of the sea, was chained up and enchanted in him; he had no voice, save that choking respiration through his spiracle, and this made the sight of him unspeakably pitiable; while still, in his amazing bulk, portcullis jaw, and omnipotent tail, there was enough to appal the stoutest man who so pitied.

Seeing now that but a very few moments more would give the Pequodā€™s boats the advantage, and rather than be thus foiled of his game, Derick chose to hazard what to him must have seemed a most unusually long dart, ere the last chance would for ever escape.

But no sooner did his harpooneer stand up for the stroke, than all three tigersā€”Queequeg, Tashtego, Daggooā€”instinctively sprang to their feet, and standing in a diagonal row, simultaneously pointed their barbs; and darted over the head of the German harpooneer, their three Nantucket irons entered the whale. Blinding vapors of foam and white-fire! The three boats, in the first fury of the whaleā€™s headlong rush, bumped the Germanā€™s aside with such force, that both Derick and his baffled harpooneer were spilled out, and sailed over by the three flying keels.

ā€œDonā€™t be afraid, my butter-boxes,ā€ cried Stubb, casting a passing glance upon them as he shot by; ā€œyeā€™ll be picked up presentlyā€”all rightā€”I saw some sharks asternā€”St. Bernardā€™s dogs, you knowā€”relieve distressed travellers. Hurrah! this is the way to sail now. Every keel a sun-beam! Hurrah!ā€”Here we go like three tin kettles at the tail of a mad cougar! This puts me in mind of fastening to an elephant in a tilbury on a plainā€”makes the wheel-spokes fly, boys, when you fasten to him that way; and thereā€™s danger of being pitched out too, when you strike a hill. Hurrah! this is the way a fellow feels when heā€™s going to Davy Jonesā€”all a rush down an endless inclined plane! Hurrah! this whale carries the everlasting mail!ā€

But the monsterā€™s run was a brief one. Giving a sudden

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