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.. < chapter xvii 2  THE RAMADAN >

     As Queequeg's Ramadan, or Fasting and
Humiliation, was to continue all day, I did not choose to disturb him till
towards night-fall; for I cherish the greatest respect towards everybody's
religious obligations, never mind how comical, and could not find it in my
heart to undervalue even a congregation of ants worshipping a toad-stool; or
those other creatures in certain parts of our earth, who with a degree of
footmanism quite unprecedented in other planets, bow down before the torso
of a deceased landed proprietor merely on account of the inordinate
possessions yet owned and rented in his name.  I say, we good Presbyterian
christians should be charitable in these things, and not fancy ourselves so
vastly superior to other mortals, pagans and what not, because of their
half-crazy conceits on these subjects.  There was Queequeg, now, certainly
entertaining the most absurd notions about Yojo and his Ramadan; --but what of
that?  Queequeg thought he knew what he was about, I suppose; he seemed to be
content; and there let him rest.  All our arguing with him would not avail;
let him be, I say: and Heaven have mercy on us all --Presbyterians and Pagans
alike --for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly
need mending.  Towards evening, when I felt assured that all his performances
and rituals must be over, I went up to his room and knocked at the door; but
no answer.  I tried to open it, but it was fastened inside.  Queequeg, said
I softly through the key-hole: --all silent.  I say, Queequeg!  why don't you
speak?  It's I--Ishmael.  But all remained still as before.  I began to grow
alarmed.  I had allowed him such abundant time; I thought he might have had
an apoplectic fit.  I looked through the key-hole; but the door opening into
an odd corner of the room, the key-hole prospect was but a crooked and
sinister one.  I could only see part of the foot-board of the bed and a line of

.. <p 82 >
the wall, but nothing more.  I was surprised to behold resting against the
wall the wooden shaft of Queequeg's harpoon, which the landlady the evening
previous had taken from him, before our mounting to the chamber.  That's
strange, thought I; but at any rate, since the harpoon stands yonder, and he
seldom or never goes abroad without it, therefore he must be inside here,
and no possible mistake.  Queequeg! --Queequeg! --all still.  Something must
have happened.  Apoplexy!  I tried to burst open the door; but it stubbornly

     resisted.  Running down stairs, I quickly stated my suspicions to the first
person i met --the chambermaid.  la!  la!  she cried, i thought something
must be the matter.  I went to make the bed after breakfast, and the door
was locked; and not a mouse to be heard; and it's been just so silent ever
since.  But I thought, may be, you had both gone off and locked your baggage
in for safe keeping.  La!  La, ma'am! --Mistress!  murder!  Mrs. Hussey!
apoplexy! --and with these cries, she ran towards the kitchen, I following.
Mrs. Hussey soon appeared, with a mustard-pot in one hand and a vinegar-cruet
in the other, having just broken away from the occupation of attending to the
castors, and scolding her little black boy meantime.  Wood-house!  cried I,

     which way to it?  Run for God's sake, and fetch something to pry open the
door --the axe! --the axe!  he's had a stroke; depend upon it! --and so saying I
was unmethodically rushing up stairs again empty-handed, when Mrs. Hussey
interposed the mustard-pot and vinegar-cruet, and the entire castor of her
countenance.  What's the matter with you, young man?  Get the axe!  For
God's sake, run for the doctor, some one, while I pry it open!  Look here,
said the landlady, quickly putting down the vinegar-cruet, so as to have one
hand free; look here; are you talking about prying open any of my doors?
--and with that she seized my arm.  What's the matter with you?  What's the
matter with you, shipmate?  In as calm, but rapid a manner as possible, I
gave her to understand the whole case.  Unconsciously clapping the
vinegar-cruet
.. <p 83 >
to one side of her nose, she ruminated for an instant; then exclaimed -- No!  I
haven't seen it since I put it there.  Running to a little closet under the
landing of the stairs, she glanced in, and returning, told me that Queequeg's
harpoon was missing.  He's killed himself, she cried.  It's unfort'nate
stiggs done over again --there goes another counterpane --god pity his poor
mother! --it will be the ruin of my house.  Has the poor lad a sister?  Where's
that girl? --there, Betty, go to Snarles the Painter, and tell him to paint
me a sign, with --"no suicides permitted here, and no smoking in the parlor;"
--might as well kill both birds at once.  Kill?  The Lord be merciful to his
ghost!  What's that noise there?  You, young man, avast there!  And running
up after me, she caught me as I was again trying to force open the door.  I
won't allow it; I won't have my premises spoiled.  Go for the locksmith,
there's one about a mile from here.  But avast!  putting her hand in her
side-pocket, here's a key that'll fit, I guess; let's see.  And with that,
she turned it in the lock; but, alas!  Queequeg's supplemental bolt remained
unwithdrawn within.  Have to burst it open, said I, and was running down
the entry a little, for a good start, when the landlady caught at me, again
vowing I should not break down her premises; but I tore from her, and with a
sudden bodily rush dashed myself full against the mark.  With a prodigious
noise the door flew open, and the knob slamming against the wall, sent the
plaster to the ceiling; and there, good heavens!  there sat Queequeg,
altogether cool and self-collected; right in the middle of the room;
squatting on his hams, and holding Yojo on top of his head.  He looked neither

     one way nor the other way, but sat like a carved image with scarce a sign of
active life.  Queequeg, said I, going up to him, Queequeg, what's the
matter with you?  He hain't been a sittin' so all day, has he?  said the
landlady.  But all we said, not a word could we drag out of him; I almost
felt like pushing him over, so as to change his position, for it was almost
intolerable, it seemed so painfully and unnaturally
.. <p 84 >
constrained; especially, as in all probability he had been sitting so for
upwards of eight or ten hours, going too without his regular meals.  Mrs.
Hussey, said I, he's alive at all events; so leave us, if you please, and
I will see to this strange affair myself.  Closing the door upon the landlady,

     I endeavored to prevail upon Queequeg to take a chair; but in vain.  There
he sat; and all he could do --for all my polite arts and blandishments --he
would not move a peg, nor say a single word, nor even look at me, nor
notice my presence in any the slightest way.  I wonder, thought I, if this can
possibly be a part of his Ramadan; do they fast on their hams that way in his
native island.  It must be so; yes, it's part of his creed, I suppose;
well, then, let him rest; he'll get up sooner or later, no doubt.  It can't
last for ever, thank God, and his Ramadan only comes once a year; and I
don't believe it's very punctual then.  I went down to supper.  After sitting a
long time listening to the long stories of some sailors who had just come from
a plum-pudding voyage, as they called it (that is, a short whaling-voyage in
a schooner or brig, confined to the north of the line, in the Atlantic Ocean
only); after listening to these plum-puddingers till nearly eleven o'clock,
I went up stairs to go to bed, feeling quite sure by this time Queequeg must
certainly have brought his Ramadan to a termination.  But no; there he was
just where I had left him; he had not stirred an inch.  I began to grow
vexed with him; it seemed so downright senseless and insane to be sitting
there all day and half the night on his hams in a cold room, holding a piece
of wood on his head.  For heaven's sake, Queequeg, get up and shake yourself;
get up and have some supper.  You'll starve; you'll kill yourself,
Queequeg.  But not a word did he reply.  Despairing of him, therefore, I
determined to go to bed and to sleep; and no doubt, before a great while, he
would follow me.  But previous to turning in, I took my heavy bearskin
jacket, and threw it over him, as it promised to be a very cold night; and he
had nothing but his ordinary round jacket on.  For some time, do all I would,
I could not get into the faintest doze.  I had blown out the candle; and the
mere thought of Queequeg--
.. <p 85 >
not four feet off --sitting there in that uneasy position, stark alone in
the cold and dark; this made me really wretched.  Think of it; sleeping all
night in the same room with a wide awake pagan on his hams in this dreary,
unaccountable Ramadan!  But somehow I dropped off at last, and knew nothing
more till break of day; when, looking over the bedside, there squatted
Queequeg, as if he had been screwed down to the floor.  But as soon as the
first glimpse of sun entered the window, up he got, with stiff and grating
joints, but with a cheerful look; limped towards me where I lay; pressed
his forehead again against mine; and said his Ramadan was over.  Now, as I
before hinted, I have no objection to any person's religion, be it what it
may, so long as that person does not kill or insult any other person,
because that other person don't believe it also.  But when a man's religion
becomes really frantic; when it is a positive torment to him; and, in fine,
makes this earth of ours an uncomfortable inn to lodge in; then I think it
high time to take that individual aside and argue the point with him.  And
just so I now did with Queequeg.  Queequeg, said I, get into bed now, and
lie and listen to me.  I then went on, beginning with the rise and progress
of the primitive religions, and coming down to the various religions of the
present time, during which time I labored to show Queequeg that all these
Lents, Ramadans, and prolonged ham-squattings in cold, cheerless rooms were
stark nonsense; bad for the health; useless for the soul; opposed, in
short, to the obvious laws of Hygiene and common sense.  I told him, too, that
he being in other things such an extremely sensible and sagacious savage, it
pained me, very badly pained me, to see him now so deplorably foolish about
this ridiculous Ramadan of his.  Besides, argued I, fasting makes the body
cave in; hence the spirit caves in; and all thoughts born of a fast must
necessarily be half-starved.  This is the reason why most dyspeptic
religionists cherish such melancholy notions about their hereafters.  In one
word, Queequeg, said I, rather digressively; hell is an idea first born on
an undigested apple-dumpling; and since then perpetuated through the
hereditary dyspepsias nurtured by Ramadans.
.. <p 86 >
I then asked Queequeg whether he himself was ever troubled with dyspepsia;
expressing the idea very plainly, so that he could take it in.  He said no;
only upon one memorable occasion.  It was after a great feast given by his
father the king, on the gaining of a great battle wherein fifty of the enemy
had been killed by about two o'clock in the afternoon, and all cooked and
eaten that very evening.  No more, Queequeg, said I, shuddering; that will
do; for I knew the inferences without his further hinting them.  I had seen
a sailor who had visited that very island, and he told me that it was the
custom, when a great battle had been gained there, to barbecue all the slain
in the yard or garden of the victor; and then, one by one, they were placed
in great wooden trenchers, and garnished round like a pilau, with breadfruit
and cocoanuts; and with some parsley in their mouths, were sent round with
the victor's compliments to all his friends, just as though these presents
were so many Christmas turkeys.  After all, I do not think that my remarks
about religion made much impression upon Queequeg.  Because, in the first
place, he somehow seemed dull of hearing on that important subject, unless
considered from his own point of view; and, in the second place, he did not
more than one third understand me, couch my ideas simply as I would; and,
finally, he no doubt thought he knew a good deal more about the true religion
than I did.  He looked at me with a sort of condescending concern and
compassion, as though he thought it a great pity that such a sensible young
man should be so hopelessly lost to evangelical pagan piety.  At last we rose
and dressed; and Queequeg, taking a prodigiously hearty breakfast of chowders
of all sorts, so that the landlady should not make much profit by reason of
his Ramadan, we sallied out to board the Pequod, sauntering along, and
picking our teeth with halibut bones.
.. <p 87 >