The Pequod Meets The Delight

           TheintensePequodsailedon;therollingwavesanddayswentby;thelife-buoy-coffinstilllightlyswung;andanothership,mostmiserablymisnamedtheDelight,wasdescried.Asshedrewnigh,alleyeswerefixeduponherbroadbeams,calledshears,which,insomewhaling-ships,crossthequarter-deckattheheightofeightorninefeet;servingtocarrythespare,unrigged,ordisabledboats.

           Uponthestranger’sshearswerebeheldtheshattered,whiteribs,andsomefewsplinteredplanks,ofwhathadoncebeenawhale-boat;butyounowsawthroughthiswreck,asplainlyasyouseethroughthepeeled,half-unhinged,andbleachingskeletonofahorse.

           "HastseentheWhiteWhale?"

           "Look!"repliedthehollow-cheekedcaptainfromhistaffrail;andwithhistrumpethepointedtothewreck.

           "Hastkilledhim?"

           "Theharpoonisnotyetforgedthateverwilldothat,"answeredtheother,sadlyglancinguponaroundedhammockonthedeck,whosegatheredsidessomenoiselesssailorswerebusyinsewingtogether.

           "Notforged!"andsnatchingPerth’slevelledironfromthecrotch,Ahabhelditout,exclaiming—"Lookye,Nantucketer;hereinthishandIholdhisdeath!Temperedinblood,andtemperedbylightningarethesebarbs;andIsweartotemperthemtriplyinthathotplacebehindthefin,wheretheWhiteWhalemostfeelshisaccursedlife!"

           "ThenGodkeepthee,oldmansee’stthouthat"—pointingtothehammock—"Iburybutoneoffivestoutmen,whowerealiveonlyyesterday;butweredeaderenight

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