当我们沿着码头尽头朝大船走去时，魁魁格扛着他的鱼叉，佩勒船长在他那小屋里用粗哑的嗓音朝我们大声喊，说没想到我朋友是个食人族，还宣布说，除非先出示证件，否则他绝不让任何食人族上这艘船。
“你这话什么意思，佩勒船长？”我说着，一跃跳上舷墙，把同伴留在码头上站着。
“我的意思是，”他答道，“他得拿出他的证件来。”
“对，”比尔德船长从佩勒身后把头探出小屋，用空洞的声音说，“他得证明自己已经皈依了。黑暗之子，”他转向魁魁格补充道，“你眼下可曾与任何基督教会相通？”
“怎么，”我说，“他是第一公理会教会的成员。”这里不妨说一句，许多在楠塔基特船上做事的刺青野人，到头来都改信了教会。
“第一公理会教会，”比尔德叫道，“什么！就是在执事申命记·科尔曼的礼拜堂里做礼拜的那个？”说着，他掏出眼镜，用那块大黄手帕擦了擦，十分小心地戴上，走出小屋，僵硬地倚在舷墙上，好好地把魁魁格打量了半天。
“他入会多久了？”他随即转向我问；“我猜不太久吧，年轻人。”
“不久，”佩勒说，“而且他受洗也不正规，不然早把他脸上那魔鬼的蓝颜色洗掉一些了。”
“说说看，真的，”比尔德叫道，“这个非利士人真是申命记执事礼拜堂的正式成员？我从来没见他去那儿，我每个主日都打那儿过。”
“我压根不知道什么申命记执事和他的礼拜堂，”我说；“我只知道，这儿的魁魁格生来就是第一公理会教会的成员。他自己就是个执事，魁魁格是。”
“年轻人，”比尔德严厉地说，“你在拿我寻开心——说清楚，你这小赫梯人。你指的是哪个教会？回答我。”
发现自己被逼得紧了，我答道：“先生，我指的是那古老的天主教会，你、我、那边的佩勒船长、这儿的魁魁格，我们所有人，每一个娘生养的灵魂，都属于它；这是整个敬拜世界伟大而永恒的第一大会众；我们都属于它；只不过我们有些人抱着些怪念头，跟那大信仰毫不相干；在_那_一点上，我们全都手拉着手。”
“你是说 splice，你是说_ splice_（接合）手，”佩勒凑近了喊，“年轻人，你最好还是去当传教士，别当前桅水手了；我还没听过比这更好的讲道。申命记执事——嘿，连梅普尔神父都讲不过他，而他可是公认有点本事的。上船吧，上船吧；证件的事甭管了。我说，叫那个 Quohog——你管他叫什么来着？叫 Quohog 往前走。大锚在上，他手里那鱼叉可真不赖！看样子是好货；使得也挺像样。我说，Quohog，不管你叫什么，你可在鲸鱼艇头立过吗？你可曾叉过鱼？”
魁魁格一言不发，以他那种野性的做派，跳上舷墙，从那儿跃入挂在船边的一只鲸鱼艇的艇首；然后绷住左膝，举起鱼叉，大致这样喊道：——
“船长，你看见水面上那小滴焦油不？看见没？好，当它是只鲸鱼眼，好，那！”他瞄准那一点，将铁叉从老比尔德宽宽的帽檐上掠过，干净利落地飞越整条船的甲板，把那发亮的焦油点击得无影无踪。
“现在，”魁魁格一面平静地收绳，一面说，“当它是鲸鱼眼；咋样，老鲸死啰。”
“快，比尔德，”佩勒——他的合伙人在飞过的鱼叉擦身而过时吓了一跳，已退向舱口——说，“快，我说你比尔德，去拿船的证件。咱们船上得有那个刺猬，我是说 Quohog，得在我们一条艇上。听着，Quohog，我们给你九十分之一份，这比楠塔基特给过任何鱼叉手的都多。”
于是我们下到舱里，令我大为高兴的是，魁魁格很快就被编入了和我同属的那支船队。
一切前奏办完，佩勒把签字要用的东西都备好后，转向我说：“我猜，那边的 Quohog 不会写字吧？我说，Quohog，该死的！你是签大名还是画记号？”
可听到这问题，魁魁格——此前已参加过两三回类似仪式——丝毫不显窘态；他接过递来的笔，在纸上恰当的地方，照着他胳膊上刺着的一个古怪圆形图案，原样描了一份；于是因佩勒船长死死叫错他名字，纸上便成了这样：——
Quohog. 他的 X 记号。
与此同时，比尔德船长端坐凝神，死死盯着魁魁格，终于庄严起身，在他宽下摆土黄外套的大口袋里摸索一阵，掏出一捆小册子，拣出一本题为《末日将至；或刻不容缓》的，塞进魁魁格手里，然后双手攥住他的手和那本书，恳切地望着他的眼睛说：“黑暗之子，我必须对得起你；我是这船的部分船主，牵挂着全体船员的灵魂；若你仍执迷于异教旧习——我深以为忧——我恳求你，莫要永做彼列之奴。弃绝偶像钟与可憎恶龙；转离将来之忿怒；当心你的眼，我说；哦！善哉慈悲！切莫坠入火坑！”
老比尔德言语里还残留着些咸海的气息，又与圣经和家常话生硬混杂在一处。
“停手，停手，比尔德，停手吧别糟蹋我们的鱼叉手，”佩勒喊道，“虔诚的鱼叉手从来成不了好航海人——那把人里的鲨鱼劲给去了；不怎么带鲨鱼样的鱼叉手，一钱不值。当年小纳特·斯温，本是楠塔基特和葡萄园岛最勇的艇首手；他入了教会，就再没出息了。他对自己那该死的灵魂怕得要命，见了鲸鱼就缩手缩脚躲着，怕万一被撞破船进了戴维·琼斯的 locker 遭报应。”
“佩勒！佩勒！”比尔德举目举手说，“你自个儿，正如我，见过多少凶险时分；你晓得，佩勒，怕死是个什么滋味；那你怎么还能这般不敬地胡咧。你昧了自个儿的心，佩勒。告诉我，就这艘裴廓德号在日本台风里折了三根桅杆那趟，你跟亚哈船长当大副那趟航程，你难道没想过死亡和审判？”
“听听他，听听他现在，”佩勒穿过舱房，双手深插口袋，叫道，“听听他，你们都听。想想那个！那时候我们每刻都以为船要沉！死亡和审判？什么？三根桅杆在船侧没命地轰响；每一个浪从头到尾打过我们。那时候想死亡和审判？不！那时候没空想死。我和亚哈船长想的是活命——怎么救下全船人——怎么扎起应急桅——怎么进最近的港；那才是我想的。”
比尔德不再言语，扣上外套，大步走上甲板，我们跟着他。他站在那儿，极安静地俯看几个帆匠在船腰补一张顶帆。他时不时弯腰捡起一块补片，或省下一段柏油线头，免得糟蹋了。
As we were walking down the end of the wharf towards the ship, Queequeg
carrying his harpoon, Captain Peleg in his gruff voice loudly hailed us
from his wigwam, saying he had not suspected my friend was a cannibal,
and furthermore announcing that he let no cannibals on board that
craft, unless they previously produced their papers.
“What do you mean by that, Captain Peleg?” said I, now jumping on the
bulwarks, and leaving my comrade standing on the wharf.
“I mean,” he replied, “he must show his papers.”
“Yes,” said Captain Bildad in his hollow voice, sticking his head from
behind Peleg’s, out of the wigwam. “He must show that he’s converted.
Son of darkness,” he added, turning to Queequeg, “art thou at present
in communion with any Christian church?”
“Why,” said I, “he’s a member of the first Congregational Church.” Here
be it said, that many tattooed savages sailing in Nantucket ships at
last come to be converted into the churches.
“First Congregational Church,” cried Bildad, “what! that worships in
Deacon Deuteronomy Coleman’s meeting-house?” and so saying, taking out
his spectacles, he rubbed them with his great yellow bandana
handkerchief, and putting them on very carefully, came out of the
wigwam, and leaning stiffly over the bulwarks, took a good long look at
Queequeg.
“How long hath he been a member?” he then said, turning to me; “not
very long, I rather guess, young man.”
“No,” said Peleg, “and he hasn’t been baptized right either, or it
would have washed some of that devil’s blue off his face.”
“Do tell, now,” cried Bildad, “is this Philistine a regular member of
Deacon Deuteronomy’s meeting? I never saw him going there, and I pass
it every Lord’s day.”
“I don’t know anything about Deacon Deuteronomy or his meeting,” said
I; “all I know is, that Queequeg here is a born member of the First
Congregational Church. He is a deacon himself, Queequeg is.”
“Young man,” said Bildad sternly, “thou art skylarking with me—explain
thyself, thou young Hittite. What church dost thee mean? answer me.”
Finding myself thus hard pushed, I replied. “I mean, sir, the same
ancient Catholic Church to which you and I, and Captain Peleg there,
and Queequeg here, and all of us, and every mother’s son and soul of us
belong; the great and everlasting First Congregation of this whole
worshipping world; we all belong to that; only some of us cherish some
queer crotchets no ways touching the grand belief; in _that_ we all
join hands.”
“Splice, thou mean’st _splice_ hands,” cried Peleg, drawing nearer.
“Young man, you’d better ship for a missionary, instead of a fore-mast
hand; I never heard a better sermon. Deacon Deuteronomy—why Father
Mapple himself couldn’t beat it, and he’s reckoned something. Come
aboard, come aboard; never mind about the papers. I say, tell Quohog
there—what’s that you call him? tell Quohog to step along. By the great
anchor, what a harpoon he’s got there! looks like good stuff that; and
he handles it about right. I say, Quohog, or whatever your name is, did
you ever stand in the head of a whale-boat? did you ever strike a
fish?”
