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The Try-Works

           Toeverypitchoftheshiptherewasapitchoftheboilingoil,whichseemedalleagernesstoleapintotheirfaces.Oppositethemouthoftheworks,onthefurthersideofthewidewoodenhearth,wasthewindlass.Thisservedforasea-sofa.Hereloungedthewatch,whennototherwiseemployed,lookingintotheredheatofthefire,tilltheireyesfeltscorchedintheirheads.Theirtawnyfeatures,nowallbegrimedwithsmokeandsweat,theirmattedbeards,andthecontrastingbarbaricbrilliancyoftheirteeth,allthesewerestrangelyrevealedinthecapriciousemblazoningsoftheworks.Astheynarratedtoeachothertheirunholyadventures,theirtalesofterrortoldinwordsofmirth;astheiruncivilizedlaughterforkedupwardsoutofthem,liketheflamesfromthefurnace;astoandfro,intheirfront,theharpooneerswildlygesticulatedwiththeirhugeprongedforksanddippers;asthewindhowledon,andthesealeaped,andtheshipgroanedanddived,andyetsteadfastlyshotherredhellfurtherandfurtherintotheblacknessoftheseaandthenight,andscornfullychampedthewhiteboneinhermouth,andviciouslyspatroundheronallsides;thentherushingPequod,freightedwithsavages,andladenwithfire,andburningacorpse,andplungingintothatblacknessofdarkness,seemedthematerialcounterpartofhermonomaniaccommander’ssoul.

           Soseemedittome,asIstoodatherhelm,andforlonghourssilentlyguidedthewayofthisfire-shiponthesea.

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Roboto Lora
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