Моби Дик

The Grand Armada

           "Oars!Oars!"heintenselywhispered,seizingthehelm—"gripeyouroars,andclutchyoursouls,now!MyGod,men,standby!Shovehimoff,youQueequeg—thewhalethere!—prickhim!—hithim!Standup—standup,andstayso!Springmen—pull,men;nevermindtheirbacks—scrapethem!—scrapeaway!"

           Theboatwasnowallbutjammedbetweentwovastblackbulks,leavinganarrowDardanellesbetweentheirlonglengths.Butbydesperateendeavorweatlastshotintoatemporaryopening;thengivingwayrapidly,andatthesametimeearnestlywatchingforanotheroutlet.Aftermanysimilarhair-breadthescapes,weatlastswiftlyglidedintowhathadjustbeenoneoftheoutercircles,butnowcrossedbyrandomwhales,allviolentlymakingforonecentre.ThisluckysalvationwascheaplypurchasedbythelossofQueequeg’shat,who,whilestandinginthebowstoprickthefugitivewhales,hadhishattakencleanfromhisheadbytheair-eddymadebythesuddentossingofapairofbroadflukescloseby.

           Riotousanddisorderedastheuniversalcommotionnowwas,itsoonresolveditselfintowhatseemedasystematicmovement;forhavingclumpedtogetheratlastinonedensebody,theythenrenewedtheironwardflightwithaugmentedfleetness.Furtherpursuitwasuseless;buttheboatsstilllingeredintheirwaketopickupwhatdruggedwhalesmightbedroppedastern,andlikewisetosecureonewhichFlaskhadkilledandwaited

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