There's a most special, a most cunning, oh, a
most malicious difference! And yet, I say again, and swear it now,
that there's something all glorious and gracious in the wind. These
warm Trade Winds, at least, that in the clear heavens blow straight on,
in strong and steadfast, vigorous mildness; and veer not from their
mark, however the baser currents of the sea may turn and tack, and
mightiest Mississipies of the land swift and swerve about, uncertain
where to go at last. And by the eternal Poles! these same Trades that
so directly blow my good ship on; these Trades, or something like
them--something so unchangeable, and full as strong, blow my keeled
soul along! To it! Aloft there! What d'ye see?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Nothing! and noon at hand! The doubloon goes a-begging! See the sun!
Aye, aye, it must be so. I've oversailed him. How, got the start?
Aye, he's chasing _me_ now; not I, _him_--that's bad; I might have
known it, too. Fool! the lines--the harpoons he's towing. Aye, aye, I
have run him by last night. About! about! Come down, all of ye, but
the regular lookouts! Man the braces!"
Steering as she had done, the wind had been somewhat on the _Pequod's_
quarter, so that now being pointed in the reverse direction, the braced
ship sailed hard upon the breeze as she rechurned the cream in her own
white wake.
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