Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/BOOKS/Novels/H.Melville/moby.10

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.. < chapter X 24  A BOSOM FRIEND >

     Returning to the Spouter-Inn from the
Chapel, I found Queequeg there quite alone; he having left the Chapel before
the benediction some time.  He was sitting on a bench before the fire, with
his feet on the stove hearth, and in one hand was holding close up to his
face that little negro idol of his; peering hard into its face, and with a
jack-knife gently whittling away at its nose, meanwhile humming to himself in
his heathenish way.  But being now interrupted, he put up the image; and
pretty
.. <p 49 >
soon, going to the table, took up a large book there, and placing it on his
lap began counting the pages with deliberate regularity; at every fiftieth
page --as I fancied --stopping a moment, looking vacantly around him, and
giving utterance to a long-drawn gurgling whistle of astonishment.  He would
then begin again at the next fifty; seeming to commence at number one each
time, as though he could not count more than fifty, and it was only by such
a large number of fifties being found together, that his astonishment at the
multitude of pages was excited.  With much interest I sat watching him.  Savage
though he was, and hideously marred about the face --at least to my taste --
his countenance yet had a something in it which was by no means disagreeable.
You cannot hide the soul.  Through all his unearthly tattooings, I thought I
saw the traces of a simple honest heart; and in his large, deep eyes, fiery
black and bold, there seemed tokens of a spirit that would dare a thousand
devils.  And besides all this, there was a certain lofty bearing about the
Pagan, which even his uncouthness could not altogether maim.  He looked like
a man who had never cringed and never had had a creditor.  Whether it was,
too, that his head being shaved, his forehead was drawn out in freer and
brighter relief, and looked more expansive than it otherwise would, this I
will not venture to decide; but certain it was his head was phrenologically
an excellent one.  It may seem ridiculous, but it reminded me of General
Washington's head, as seen in the popular busts of him.  It had the same long
regularly graded retreating slope from above the brows, which were likewise
very projecting, like two long promontories thickly wooded on top.  Queequeg
was George Washington cannibalistically developed.  Whilst I was thus closely
scanning him, half-pretending meanwhile to be looking out at the storm from
the casement, he never heeded my presence, never troubled himself with so
much as a single glance; but appeared wholly occupied with counting the
pages of the marvellous book.  Considering how sociably we had been sleeping
together the night previous, and especially considering the affectionate arm
I had found thrown over me upon waking in the morning, I thought this
indifference of his
.. <p 50 >
very strange.  But savages are strange beings; at times you do not know
exactly how to take them.  At first they are overawing; their calm
self-collectedness of simplicity seems a Socratic wisdom.  I had noticed also
that Queequeg never consorted at all, or but very little, with the other
seamen in the inn.  He made no advances whatever; appeared to have no desire
to enlarge the circle of his acquaintances.  All this struck me as mighty
singular; yet, upon second thoughts, there was something almost sublime in
it.  Here was a man some twenty thousand miles from home, by the way of Cape
Horn, that is --which was the only way he could get there --thrown among people
as strange to him as though he were in the planet Jupiter; and yet he seemed
entirely at his ease; preserving the utmost serenity; content with his own
companionship; always equal to himself.  Surely this was a touch of fine
philosophy; though no doubt he had never heard there was such a thing as
that.  But, perhaps, to be true philosophers, we mortals should not be
conscious of so living or so striving.  So soon as I hear that such or such a
man gives himself out for a philosopher, I conclude that, like the dyspeptic
old woman, he must have broken his digester.  As I sat there in that now
lonely room; the fire burning low, in that mild stage when, after its first
intensity has warmed the air, it then only glows to be looked at; the
evening shades and phantoms gathering round the casements, and peering in
upon us silent, solitary twain; the storm booming without in solemn swells;
I began to be sensible of strange feelings.  I felt a melting in me.  No
more my splintered heart and maddened hand were turned against the wolfish
world.  This soothing savage had redeemed it.  There he sat, his very
indifference speaking a nature in which there lurked no civilized hypocrisies
and bland deceits.  Wild he was; a very sight of sights to see; yet I began
to feel myself mysteriously drawn towards him.  And those same things that
would have repelled most others, they were the very magnets that thus drew
me.  I'll try a pagan friend, thought I, since Christian kindness has proved
but hollow courtesy.  I drew my bench near him, and made some friendly signs
and hints, doing my best to talk with him meanwhile.  At first he little
noticed these advances; but presently, upon my referring to his last
.. <p 51 >
night's hospitalities, he made out to ask me whether we were again to be
bedfellows.  I told him yes; whereat I thought he looked pleased, perhaps a
little complimented.  We then turned over the book together, and I endeavored
to explain to him the purpose of the printing, and the meaning of the few
pictures that were in it.  Thus I soon engaged his interest; and from that we
went to jabbering the best we could about the various outer sights to be seen
in this famous town.  Soon I proposed a social smoke; and, producing his pouch
and tomahawk, he quietly offered me a puff.  And then we sat exchanging puffs
from that wild pipe of his, and keeping it regularly passing between us.  If
there yet lurked any ice of indifference towards me in the Pagan's breast,
this pleasant, genial smoke we had, soon thawed it out, and left us cronies.
He seemed to take to me quite as naturally and unbiddenly as I to him; and
when our smoke was over, he pressed his forehead against mine, clasped me
round the waist, and said that henceforth we were married; meaning, in his
country's phrase, that we were bosom friends; he would gladly die for me, if
need should be.  In a countryman, this sudden flame of friendship would have
seemed far too premature, a thing to be much distrusted; but in this simple
savage those old rules would not apply.  After supper, and another social chat
and smoke, we went to our room together.  He made me a present of his
embalmed head; took out his enormous tobacco wallet, and groping under the
tobacco, drew out some thirty dollars in silver; then spreading them on the
table, and mechanically dividing them into two equal portions, pushed one of
them towards me, and said it was mine.  I was going to remonstrate; but he
silenced me by pouring them into my trowsers' pockets.  I let them stay.  He
then went about his evening prayers, took out his idol, and removed the
paper fireboard.  By certain signs and symptoms, I thought he seemed anxious
for me to join him; but well knowing what was to follow, I deliberated a
moment whether, in case he invited me, I would comply or otherwise.  I was a
good Christian; born and bred in the bosom of the infallible Presbyterian
Church.  How then could I unite with
.. <p 52 >
this wild idolator in worshipping his piece of wood?  But what is worship?
thought I. Do you suppose now, Ishmael, that the magnanimous God of heaven
and earth --pagans and all included --can possibly be jealous of an
insignificant bit of black wood?  Impossible!  But what is worship? --to do the
will of God -- that is worship.  And what is the will of God? --to do to my
fellow man what I would have my fellow man to do to me -- that is the will of
God.  Now, Queequeg is my fellow man.  And what do I wish that this Queequeg
would do to me?  Why, unite with me in my particular Presbyterian form of
worship.  consequently, i must then unite with him in his; ergo, I must turn
idolator.  So I kindled the shavings; helped prop up the innocent little
idol; offered him burnt biscuit with Queequeg; salamed before him twice or
thrice; kissed his nose; and that done, we undressed and went to bed, at
peace with our own consciences and all the world.  But we did not go to sleep
without some little chat.  How it is I know not; but there is no place like a
bed for confidential disclosures between friends.  Man and wife, they say,
there open the very bottom of their souls to each other; and some old couples
often lie and chat over old times till nearly morning.  Thus, then, in our
hearts' honeymoon, lay I and Queequeg --a cosy, loving pair.
.. <p 52 >