.. < 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 >

