CHAPTER 91
The Pequod Meets The Rose-Bud
“In vain it was to rake for Ambergriese in the paunch of this Leviathan,
insufferable fetor denying not inquiry.” SIR T. BROWNE, V. E.
It was a week or two after the last whaling scene recounted, and when we
were slowly sailing over a sleepy, vapory, mid-day sea, that the many noses
on the Pequod’s deck proved more vigilant discoverers than the three pairs
of eyes aloft. A peculiar and not very pleasant smell was smelt in the sea.
“I will bet something now,” said Stubb, “that somewhere hereabouts are
some of those drugged whales we tickled the other day. I thought they
would keel up before long.”
Presently, the vapors in advance slid aside; and there in the distance lay a
ship, whose furled sails betokened that some sort of whale must be
alongside. As we glided nearer, the stranger showed French colors from his
peak; and by the eddying cloud of vulture sea-fowl that circled, and
hovered, and swooped around him, it was plain that the whale alongside
must be what the fishermen call a blasted whale, that is, a whale that has
died unmolested on the sea, and so floated an unappropriated corpse. It may
well be conceived, what an unsavory odor such a mass must exhale; worse
than an Assyrian city in the plague, when the living are incompetent to bury
the departed. So intolerable indeed is it regarded by some, that no cupidity
could persuade them to moor alongside of it. Yet are there those who will
still do it; notwithstanding the fact that the oil obtained from such subjects
is of a very inferior quality, and by no means of the nature of attar-of-rose.
Coming still nearer with the expiring breeze, we saw that the Frenchman
had a second whale alongside; and this second whale seemed even more of
a nosegay than the first. In truth, it turned out to be one of those
problematical whales that seem to dry up and die with a sort of prodigious
dyspepsia, or indigestion; leaving their defunct bodies almost entirely
bankrupt of anything like oil. Nevertheless, in the proper place we shall see
that no knowing fisherman will ever turn up his nose at such a whale as
this, however much he may shun blasted whales in general.
The Pequod had now swept so nigh to the stranger, that Stubb vowed he
recognized his cutting spade-pole entangled in the lines that were knotted
round the tail of one of these whales.
“There’s a pretty fellow, now,” he banteringly laughed, standing in the
ship’s bows, “there’s a jackal for ye! I well know that these Crappoes of
Frenchmen are but poor devils in the fishery; sometimes lowering their
boats for breakers, mistaking them for Sperm Whale spouts; yes, and
sometimes sailing from their port with their hold full of boxes of tallow
candles, and cases of snuffers, foreseeing that all the oil they will get won’t
be enough to dip the Captain’s wick into; aye, we all know these things; but
look ye, here’s a Crappo that is content with our leavings, the drugged
whale there, I mean; aye, and is content too with scraping the dry bones of
that other precious fish he has there. Poor devil! I say, pass round a hat,
some one, and let’s make him a present of a little oil for dear charity’s sake.
For what oil he’ll get from that drugged whale there, wouldn’t be fit to burn
in a jail; no, not in a condemned cell. And as for the other whale, why, I’ll
agree to get more oil by chopping up and trying out these three masts of
ours, than he’ll get from that bundle of bones; though, now that I think of it,
it may contain something worth a good deal more than oil; yes, ambergris. I
wonder now if our old man has thought of that. It’s worth trying. Yes, I’m
for it;” and so saying he started for the quarter-deck.
By this time the faint air had become a complete calm; so that whether or
no, the Pequod was now fairly entrapped in the smell, with no hope of
escaping except by its breezing up again. Issuing from the cabin, Stubb now
called his boat’s crew, and pulled off for the stranger. Drawing across her
bow, he perceived that in accordance with the fanciful French taste, the
upper part of her stem-piece was carved in the likeness of a huge drooping
stalk, was painted green, and for thorns had copper spikes projecting from it
here and there; the whole terminating in a symmetrical folded bulb of a
bright red color. Upon her head boards, in large gilt letters, he read “Bouton
de Rose,”—Rose-button, or Rose-bud; and this was the romantic name of
this aromatic ship.
Though Stubb did not understand the Bouton part of the inscription, yet
the word rose, and the bulbous figure-head put together, sufficiently
explained the whole to him.
“A wooden rose-bud, eh?” he cried with his hand to his nose, “that will
do very well; but how like all creation it smells!”
Now in order to hold direct communication with the people on deck, he
had to pull round the bows to the starboard side, and thus come close to the
blasted whale; and so talk over it.
Arrived then at this spot, with one hand still to his nose, he bawled
—”Bouton-de-Rose, ahoy! are there any of you Bouton-de-Roses that speak
English?”
“Yes,” rejoined a Guernsey-man from the bulwarks, who turned out to be
the chief-mate.
“Well, then, my Bouton-de-Rose-bud, have you seen the White Whale?”
“What whale?”
“The White Whale—a Sperm Whale—Moby Dick, have ye seen him?
“Never heard of such a whale. Cachalot Blanche! White Whale—no.”
“Very good, then; good bye now, and I’ll call again in a minute.”
Then rapidly pulling back towards the Pequod, and seeing Ahab leaning
over the quarter-deck rail awaiting his report, he moulded his two hands
into a trumpet and shouted—”No, Sir! No!” Upon which Ahab retired, and
Stubb returned to the Frenchman.
He now perceived that the Guernsey-man, who had just got into the
chains, and was using a cutting-spade, had slung his nose in a sort of bag.
“What’s the matter with your nose, there?” said Stubb. “Broke it?”
“I wish it was broken, or that I didn’t have any nose at all!” answered the
Guernsey-man, who did not seem to relish the job he was at very much.
“But what are you holding yours for?”
“Oh, nothing! It’s a wax nose; I have to hold it on. Fine day, ain’t it? Air
rather gardenny, I should say; throw us a bunch of posies, will ye, Bouton-
de-Rose?”
“What in the devil’s name do you want here?” roared the Guernseyman,
flying into a sudden passion.
“Oh! keep cool—cool? yes, that’s the word! why don’t you pack those
whales in ice while you’re working at ’em? But joking aside, though; do you
know, Rose-bud, that it’s all nonsense trying to get any oil out of such
whales? As for that dried up one, there, he hasn’t a gill in his whole
carcase.”
“I know that well enough; but, d’ye see, the Captain here won’t believe it;
this is his first voyage; he was a Cologne manufacturer before. But come
aboard, and mayhap he’ll believe you, if he won’t me; and so I’ll get out of
this dirty scrape.”
“Anything to oblige ye, my sweet and pleasant fellow,” rejoined Stubb,
and with that he soon mounted to the deck. There a queer scene presented
itself. The sailors, in tasselled caps of red worsted, were getting the heavy
tackles in readiness for the whales. But they worked rather slow and talked
very fast, and seemed in anything but a good humor. All their noses
upwardly projected from their faces like so many jibbooms. Now and then
pairs of them would drop their work, and run up to the mast-head to get
some fresh air. Some thinking they would catch the plague, dipped oakum
in coal-tar, and at intervals held it to their nostrils. Others having broken the
stems of their pipes almost short off at the bowl, were vigorously puffing
tobacco-smoke, so that it constantly filled their olfactories.
Stubb was struck by a shower of outcries and anathemas proceeding from
the Captain’s round-house abaft; and looking in that direction saw a fiery
face thrust from behind the door, which was held ajar from within. This was
the tormented surgeon, who, after in vain remonstrating against the
proceedings of the day, had betaken himself to the Captain’s round-house
(cabinet he called it) to avoid the pest; but still, could not help yelling out
his entreaties and indignations at times.
Marking all this, Stubb argued well for his scheme, and turning to the
Guernsey-man had a little chat with him, during which the stranger mate
expressed his detestation of his Captain as a conceited ignoramus, who had
brought them all into so unsavory and unprofitable a pickle. Sounding him
carefully, Stubb further perceived that the Guernsey-man had not the
slightest suspicion concerning the ambergris. He therefore held his peace on
that head, but otherwise was quite frank and confidential with him, so that
the two quickly concocted a little plan for both circumventing and satirizing
the Captain, without his at all dreaming of distrusting their sincerity.
According to this little plan of theirs, the Guernsey-man, under cover of an
interpreter’s office, was to tell the Captain what he pleased, but as coming
from Stubb; and as for Stubb, he was to utter any nonsense that should
come uppermost in him during the interview.
By this time their destined victim appeared from his cabin. He was a
small and dark, but rather delicate looking man for a sea-captain, with large
whiskers and moustache, however; and wore a red cotton velvet vest with
watch-seals at his side. To this gentleman, Stubb was now politely
introduced by the Guernsey-man, who at once ostentatiously put on the
aspect of interpreting between them.
“What shall I say to him first?” said he.
“Why,” said Stubb, eyeing the velvet vest and the watch and seals, “you
may as well begin by telling him that he looks a sort of babyish to me,
though I don’t pretend to be a judge.”
“He says, Monsieur,” said the Guernsey-man, in French, turning to his
captain, “that only yesterday his ship spoke a vessel, whose captain and
chief-mate, with six sailors, had all died of a fever caught from a blasted
whale they had brought alongside.”
Upon this the captain started, and eagerly desired to know more.
“What now?” said the Guernsey-man to Stubb.
“Why, since he takes it so easy, tell him that now I have eyed him
carefully, I’m quite certain that he’s no more fit to command a whale-ship
than a St. Jago monkey. In fact, tell him from me he’s a baboon.”
“He vows and declares, Monsieur, that the other whale, the dried one, is
far more deadly than the blasted one; in fine, Monsieur, he conjures us, as
we value our lives, to cut loose from these fish.”
Instantly the captain ran forward, and in a loud voice commanded his
crew to desist from hoisting the cutting-tackles, and at once cast loose the
cables and chains confining the whales to the ship.
“What now?” said the Guernsey-man, when the Captain had returned to
them.
“Why, let me see; yes, you may as well tell him now that—that—in fact,
tell him I’ve diddled him, and (aside to himself) perhaps somebody else.”
“He says, Monsieur, that he’s very happy to have been of any service to
us.”
Hearing this, the captain vowed that they were the grateful parties
(meaning himself and mate), and concluded by inviting Stubb down into his
cabin to drink a bottle of Bordeaux.
“He wants you to take a glass of wine with him,” said the interpreter.
“Thank him heartily; but tell him it’s against my principles to drink with
the man I’ve diddled. In fact, tell him I must go.”
“He says, Monsieur, that his principles won’t admit of his drinking; but
that if Monsieur wants to live another day to drink, then Monsieur had best
drop all four boats, and pull the ship away from these whales, for it’s so
calm they won’t drift.”
By this time Stubb was over the side, and getting into his boat, hailed the
Guernsey-man to this effect,—that having a long tow-line in his boat, he
would do what he could to help them, by pulling out the lighter whale of the
two from the ship’s side. While the Frenchman’s boats, then, were engaged
in towing the ship one way, Stubb benevolently towed away at his whale
the other way, ostentatiously slacking out a most unusually long tow-line.
Presently a breeze sprang up; Stubb feigned to cast off from the whale;
hoisting his boats, the Frenchman soon increased his distance, while the
Pequod slid in between him and Stubb’s whale. Whereupon Stubb quickly
pulled to the floating body, and hailing the Pequod to give notice of his
intentions, at once proceeded to reap the fruit of his unrighteous cunning.
Seizing his sharp boat-spade, he commenced an excavation in the body, a
little behind the side fin. You would almost have thought he was digging a
cellar there in the sea; and when at length his spade struck against the gaunt
ribs, it was like turning up old Roman tiles and pottery buried in fat English
loam. His boat’s crew were all in high excitement, eagerly helping their
chief, and looking as anxious as gold-hunters.
And all the time numberless fowls were diving, and ducking, and
screaming, and yelling, and fighting around them. Stubb was beginning to
look disappointed, especially as the horrible nosegay increased, when
suddenly from out the very heart of this plague, there stole a faint stream of
perfume, which flowed through the tide of bad smells without being
absorbed by it, as one river will flow into and then along with another,
without at all blending with it for a time.
“I have it, I have it,” cried Stubb, with delight, striking something in the
subterranean regions, “a purse! a purse!”
Dropping his spade, he thrust both hands in, and drew out handfuls of
something that looked like ripe Windsor soap, or rich mottled old cheese;
very unctuous and savory withal. You might easily dent it with your thumb;
it is of a hue between yellow and ash color. And this, good friends, is
ambergris, worth a gold guinea an ounce to any druggist. Some six handfuls
were obtained; but more was unavoidably lost in the sea, and still more,
perhaps, might have been secured were it not for impatient Ahab’s loud
command to Stubb to desist, and come on board, else the ship would bid
them good-bye.
