第二十二章 圣诞快乐
第二十二章 圣诞快乐
终于，将近正午时分，船上的索具工全部遣散，裴廓德号也已从码头拖出，向来体贴的慈善会修女乘捕鲸小艇送来最后一份礼物——给二副、她的小叔子斯塔布一顶睡帽，给管事一本备用的《圣经》——在此之后，佩勒格和比尔德两位船长从舱里出来，转身对着大副，佩勒格说：
“好了，斯塔巴克先生，你确定一切都妥当了吗？亚哈船长全准备好了——刚跟他说过话——岸上再没什么可取的了吧？那好，把全体水手召集起来。把他们集合到船尾来——都给我滚过来！”
“再急也用不着说脏话，佩勒格，”比尔德说，“不过你快去吧，斯塔巴克朋友，照我们说的办。”
怎么回事！眼看就要启程出海，佩勒格船长和比尔德船长却在后甲板上大权独揽，仿佛他们要当海上联合司令，至少在港里看样子就是这样。至于亚哈船长，还不见半点踪影；只说他在舱里。但当时的想法是，起锚出海、把船稳稳开出港，根本不需要他露面。其实那本不是他的分内事，而是引水员的事；而且据说他还没完全康复，所以亚哈船长留在下面。这一切似乎都再自然不过；尤其是商船界许多船长起锚后好一阵都不露甲板，而是留在舱里桌上，跟岸上朋友作最后的欢聚，等引水员一来就永远离船。
可没多少工夫琢磨这些，因为佩勒格船长此刻精神抖擞。好像说话下令多半是他，而非比尔德。
“到后头来，你们这帮光棍崽子，”水手们还在主桅旁磨蹭，他喊道，“斯塔巴克先生，把他们赶过来。”
“收帐篷！”——这是下一道令。如前所述，这鲸骨帐篷只在港里支；在裴廓德号上，三十年来，收帐篷的命令众所周知就等于要起锚。
“绞盘就位！见鬼去吧！——跳！”——再下命令，水手们猛扑向绞杆。
起锚出海时，引水员通常站船头。这里要说，比尔德和佩勒格一样，除别的职务外，还是本港持证引水员之一——据猜他弄个引水执照，是为省下他经手所有船的南塔基特引水费，因他从不引别的船——我说比尔德，此刻可见他正忙着从船头眺望渐近的锚，并不时唱起一段凄惨的圣诗，给绞盘边的弟兄鼓劲，而那些人正扯开嗓子合唱什么布布尔巷的姑娘，兴致高昂。然而，不过三天前，比尔德还告诉他们，裴廓德号上不许唱亵渎的歌，尤其起锚时；他妹妹慈善还往每个水手铺位放了一本精选的瓦茨诗集。
与此同时，佩勒格船长在船尾监工，骂骂咧咧，怕人的很。我几乎以为锚没起上来船先叫他沉了；不由停了绞杆，叫魁魁格也停，想着跟这么个魔鬼引水员出海，咱俩多危险。不过我宽慰自己，想着虔诚的比尔德总能救点急，不管他那份七百七十七的股金；忽觉后腰被猛戳一下，转身吓坏——竟是佩勒格船长刚把腿从我近旁收回。那是我第一脚。
“商船界就这么绞锚的？”他吼，“蹦啊，你羊脑袋；蹦，蹦断你脊梁！怎么不蹦，我说，你们全——蹦！蛤蜊！红胡子那小子蹦；苏格兰帽蹦；绿裤子蹦。我说全给我蹦，蹦出眼珠子来！”说着他沿绞盘走，腿脚随处乱踢，而镇定的比尔德只顾领唱圣诗。我想，佩勒格船长今天准喝了什么。
终于锚起帆张，我们滑出去。那是个短暂而寒冷的圣诞；当北方短日没入夜色，我们已几乎直面冬洋，冻沫把我们裹成冰甲，亮如铠甲。舷墙上一排排长牙在月光里闪；如巨象白牙，巨大弯冰凌自船头垂下。
瘦比尔德引水值头班，老船每深扎绿浪，寒霜抖落全身，风嚎绳鸣，便听见他稳稳的调子——
_“涌浪外甜美田野，
着鲜活绿装而立。
古迦南向犹太人，
约旦横流其间。”_
从未有这甜美字句那时更甜美于我。满含希望与成就。虽大西洋狂夜寒，虽我湿脚湿衣，那时觉来，仍多怡港在前；草甸林间永春，春生草长，无人踏，不枯槁，至夏犹在。
终得远离岸，两引水不必再留。伴我们的结实帆船开始傍靠。
有趣却不讨嫌，佩勒格与比尔德此时神情，尤其比尔德船长。不忍去，又极不忍永别这远险之航——过两风暴角；船里投他辛苦钱几千；老同船为船长；人几同老，再赴无情巨口之怖；不忍向满牵他意之物道别——可怜老比尔德久留；甲板焦步；下舱再道别；复上甲板，望风；望阔无涯水，唯远东陆为界；望陆；望空；左右望；望处皆非；终机械绕绳于钉，痉挛握壮佩勒格手，举灯暂英雄望其面，似说：“然也，佩勒格友，我能忍；是，我能。”
佩勒格自取哲人态；然虽哲，灯太近时眼闪一泪。他也舱甲间小跑——下言几句，上同大副斯塔巴克言几句。
但终他向老伙计作决然状——“比尔德船长——来，老同船，得走了。后退主桁！船哎！靠紧傍来！小心，小心！——来，比尔德小子——说你最后。斯塔巴克好运——斯塔布先生好运——弗拉斯克先生好运——别了都好运——三年今日老南塔基特热饭等你们。呼啦走！”
“神佑你们，居圣护中， men，”老比尔德几不清语，“愿现好天，亚哈船长早动于你们间——暖阳足矣，热带航多的是。猎小心， mates。莫妄损艇， harpooneers；白杉板年内涨三厘。莫忘祷。斯塔巴克先生，看箍匠莫费备板。哦！帆针绿柜！主日莫多鲸， men；但莫失机，是弃天赐。看糖蜜桶，斯塔布先生；我觉微漏。若泊岛，弗拉斯克先生，避奸。别了，别了！莫久藏乳酪于舱底，斯塔巴克先生；会坏。黄油小心——廿分磅，且想若——”
“来来，比尔德船长；少啰嗦——走！”言毕佩勒格推他过舷，俩都落小艇。
船艇分；冷湿夜风穿；尖鸥过顶；两壳狂摇；我们三心沉欢呼，盲如命投孤大西洋。
At length, towards noon, upon the final dismissal of the ship’s
riggers, and after the Pequod had been hauled out from the wharf, and
after the ever-thoughtful Charity had come off in a whale-boat, with
her last gift—a night-cap for Stubb, the second mate, her
brother-in-law, and a spare Bible for the steward—after all this, the
two Captains, Peleg and Bildad, issued from the cabin, and turning to
the chief mate, Peleg said:
“Now, Mr. Starbuck, are you sure everything is right? Captain Ahab is
all ready—just spoke to him—nothing more to be got from shore, eh?
Well, call all hands, then. Muster ’em aft here—blast ’em!”
“No need of profane words, however great the hurry, Peleg,” said
Bildad, “but away with thee, friend Starbuck, and do our bidding.”
How now! Here upon the very point of starting for the voyage, Captain
Peleg and Captain Bildad were going it with a high hand on the
quarter-deck, just as if they were to be joint-commanders at sea, as
well as to all appearances in port. And, as for Captain Ahab, no sign
of him was yet to be seen; only, they said he was in the cabin. But
then, the idea was, that his presence was by no means necessary in
getting the ship under weigh, and steering her well out to sea. Indeed,
as that was not at all his proper business, but the pilot’s; and as he
was not yet completely recovered—so they said—therefore, Captain Ahab
stayed below. And all this seemed natural enough; especially as in the
merchant service many captains never show themselves on deck for a
considerable time after heaving up the anchor, but remain over the
cabin table, having a farewell merry-making with their shore friends,
before they quit the ship for good with the pilot.
But there was not much chance to think over the matter, for Captain
Peleg was now all alive. He seemed to do most of the talking and
commanding, and not Bildad.
“Aft here, ye sons of bachelors,” he cried, as the sailors lingered at
the main-mast. “Mr. Starbuck, drive ’em aft.”
“Strike the tent there!”—was the next order. As I hinted before, this
whalebone marquee was never pitched except in port; and on board the
Pequod, for thirty years, the order to strike the tent was well known
to be the next thing to heaving up the anchor.
“Man the capstan! Blood and thunder!—jump!”—was the next command, and
the crew sprang for the handspikes.
Now in getting under weigh, the station generally occupied by the pilot
is the forward part of the ship. And here Bildad, who, with Peleg, be
it known, in addition to his other officers, was one of the licensed
pilots of the port—he being suspected to have got himself made a pilot
in order to save the Nantucket pilot-fee to all the ships he was
concerned in, for he never piloted any other craft—Bildad, I say, might
now be seen actively engaged in looking over the bows for the
approaching anchor, and at intervals singing what seemed a dismal stave
of psalmody, to cheer the hands at the windlass, who roared forth some
sort of a chorus about the girls in Booble Alley, with hearty good
will. Nevertheless, not three days previous, Bildad had told them that
no profane songs would be allowed on board the Pequod, particularly in
getting under weigh; and Charity, his sister, had placed a small choice
copy of Watts in each seaman’s berth.
Meantime, overseeing the other part of the ship, Captain Peleg ripped
and swore astern in the most frightful manner. I almost thought he
would sink the ship before the anchor could be got up; involuntarily I
paused on my handspike, and told Queequeg to do the same, thinking of
the perils we both ran, in starting on the voyage with such a devil for
a pilot. I was comforting myself, however, with the thought that in
pious Bildad might be found some salvation, spite of his seven hundred
and seventy-seventh lay; when I felt a sudden sharp poke in my rear,
and turning round, was horrified at the apparition of Captain Peleg in
the act of withdrawing his leg from my immediate vicinity. That was my
first kick.
“Is that the way they heave in the marchant service?” he roared.
“Spring, thou sheep-head; spring, and break thy backbone! Why don’t ye
spring, I say, all of ye—spring! Quohog! spring, thou chap with the red
whiskers; spring there, Scotch-cap; spring, thou green pants. Spring, I
say, all of ye, and spring your eyes out!” And so saying, he moved
along the windlass, here and there using his leg very freely, while
imperturbable Bildad kept leading off with his psalmody. Thinks I,
Captain Peleg must have been drinking something to-day.
At last the anchor was up, the sails were set, and off we glided. It
was a short, cold Christmas; and as the short northern day merged into
night, we found ourselves almost broad upon the wintry ocean, whose
freezing spray cased us in ice, as in polished armor. The long rows of
teeth on the bulwarks glistened in the moonlight; and like the white
ivory tusks of some huge elephant, vast curving icicles depended from
the bows.
Lank Bildad, as pilot, headed the first watch, and ever and anon, as
the old craft deep dived into the green seas, and sent the shivering
frost all over her, and the winds howled, and the cordage rang, his
steady notes were heard,—
_“Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood, Stand dressed in living
green. So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between.”_
Never did those sweet words sound more sweetly to me than then. They
were full of hope and fruition. Spite of this frigid winter night in
the boisterous Atlantic, spite of my wet feet and wetter jacket, there
was yet, it then seemed to me, many a pleasant haven in store; and
meads and glades so eternally vernal, that the grass shot up by the
spring, untrodden, unwilted, remains at midsummer.
At last we gained such an offing, that the two pilots were needed no
longer. The stout sail-boat that had accompanied us began ranging
alongside.
It was curious and not unpleasing, how Peleg and Bildad were affected
at this juncture, especially Captain Bildad. For loath to depart, yet;
very loath to leave, for good, a ship bound on so long and perilous a
voyage—beyond both stormy Capes; a ship in which some thousands of his
hard earned dollars were invested; a ship, in which an old shipmate
sailed as captain; a man almost as old as he, once more starting to
encounter all the terrors of the pitiless jaw; loath to say good-bye to
a thing so every way brimful of every interest to him,—poor old Bildad
lingered long; paced the deck with anxious strides; ran down into the
cabin to speak another farewell word there; again came on deck, and
looked to windward; looked towards the wide and endless waters, only
bounded by the far-off unseen Eastern Continents; looked towards the
land; looked aloft; looked right and left; looked everywhere and
nowhere; and at last, mechanically coiling a rope upon its pin,
convulsively grasped stout Peleg by the hand, and holding up a lantern,
for a moment stood gazing heroically in his face, as much as to say,
“Nevertheless, friend Peleg, I can stand it; yes, I can.”
As for Peleg himself, he took it more like a philosopher; but for all
his philosophy, there was a tear twinkling in his eye, when the lantern
came too near. And he, too, did not a little run from cabin to deck—now
a word below, and now a word with Starbuck, the chief mate.
But, at last, he turned to his comrade, with a final sort of look about
him,—“Captain Bildad—come, old shipmate, we must go. Back the main-yard
there! Boat ahoy! Stand by to come close alongside, now! Careful,
careful!—come, Bildad, boy—say your last. Luck to ye, Starbuck—luck to
ye, Mr. Stubb—luck to ye, Mr. Flask—good-bye and good luck to ye
all—and this day three years I’ll have a hot supper smoking for ye in
old Nantucket. Hurrah and away!”
“God bless ye, and have ye in His holy keeping, men,” murmured old
Bildad, almost incoherently. “I hope ye’ll have fine weather now, so
that Captain Ahab may soon be moving among ye—a pleasant sun is all he
needs, and ye’ll have plenty of them in the tropic voyage ye go. Be
careful in the hunt, ye mates. Don’t stave the boats needlessly, ye
harpooneers; good white cedar plank is raised full three per cent.
within the year. Don’t forget your prayers, either. Mr. Starbuck, mind
that cooper don’t waste the spare staves. Oh! the sail-needles are in
the green locker! Don’t whale it too much a’ Lord’s days, men; but
don’t miss a fair chance either, that’s rejecting Heaven’s good gifts.
Have an eye to the molasses tierce, Mr. Stubb; it was a little leaky, I
thought. If ye touch at the islands, Mr. Flask, beware of fornication.
Good-bye, good-bye! Don’t keep that cheese too long down in the hold,
Mr. Starbuck; it’ll spoil. Be careful with the butter—twenty cents the
pound it was, and mind ye, if—”
“Come, come, Captain Bildad; stop palavering,—away!” and with that,
Peleg hurried him over the side, and both dropt into the boat.
Ship and boat diverged; the cold, damp night breeze blew between; a
screaming gull flew overhead; the two hulls wildly rolled; we gave
three heavy-hearted cheers, and blindly plunged like fate into the lone
Atlantic.
