Moby Dick; or, The Whale (version 2) — 120: The deck towards the end of the first night watch

_Ahab standing by the helm.

Starbuck approaching him.

_ “We must send down the main-top-sail yard, sir.

The band is working loose, and the lee lift is half-stranded.

Shall I strike it, sir?

” “Strike nothing; lash it.

If I had sky-sail poles, I’d sway them up now.

” “Sir?

—in God’s name!

—sir?

” “Well.

” “The anchors are working, sir.

Shall I get them inboard?

” “Strike nothing, and stir nothing, but lash everything.

The wind rises, but it has not got up to my table-lands yet.

Quick, and see to it.

—By masts and keels!

he takes me for the hunch-backed skipper of some coasting smack.

Send down my main-top-sail yard!

Ho, gluepots!

Loftiest trucks were made for wildest winds, and this brain-truck of mine now sails amid the cloud-scud.

Shall I strike that?

Oh, none but cowards send down their brain-trucks in tempest time.

What a hooroosh aloft there!

I would e’en take it for sublime, did I not know that the colic is a noisy malady.

Oh, take medicine, take medicine!

” CHAPTER CXXI. MIDNIGHT—THE FORECASTLE BULWARKS.