Chapter 77 72．Queequeg's Adventure

The unpleasant association with the "Sail voyage" is over. Now, the people on the "Pequode" have really calmed down. Most people use deep sleep to relieve fatigue. While they're all asleep, I'll tell you about Queequeg, about his hardships, and the greatness that was made of them. Everyone has known for a long time that when cutting whale blubber, first use a shovel to shovel a hole in the body of the big whale, then hang the hook firmly on the hole, and rely on the winch on the big ship to pull the blubber off piece by piece. But the bulky hook will not automatically hook the cut hole, and someone needs to hang it.

This perilous task belonged to Queequeg, as one of his duties as javeliner. Queequeg looked in good spirits in a shirt and socks, the costume of a Scot. Queequeg descended from the ship down the steep gangway to the vicinity of the whale. Queequeg repeated the work of the hook again and again, with his body only half on the whale's back. The remaining half was submerged in sea water. The dead whale was not motionless on the surface of the sea, but kept turning around, like the pedals of a waterwheel. In this way, Queequeg was almost like an acrobat playing on a big ball. But Queequeg meant no play, which was funny but dangerous.

In order to protect him as much as possible, and to share some of the danger with him, I fastened a rope, one end to the canvas belt around Queequeg's waist, and the other end to the canvas belt around my waist. Because doing this is very similar to how monkeys tie monkeys, so we call this rope "monkey rope". In this way, Queequeg and I became two ants on the same rope, and our fate was completely linked. We shared weal and woe, and became a pair of brothers and sisters worthy of the name. Should Queequeg go overboard and never come up again, I can't cut the ropes around my loins, and let him go to God alone.

Then I shall never find a place on any whaler, for I shall be a coward, a betrayer, and all sorts of other things. The only option I had was to jump off the ten-foot rail, be dragged by him, and sink with him. We'll go down to the bottom of the ocean, down to where the whales sleep, and wake up the sleeping whales so they can eat us. But in this way I can achieve my fame with my death. While I tended Queequeg carefully, I thought of all the same things as we were now. Now it's like two people have joined together to start a company. It's good or bad. It's like you keep all your money in the bank. Once the bank fails, your money will be gone.

Just like when you buy medicine in a pharmacy, your life depends entirely on the owner of the pharmacy. If he is abnormal, or deliberately poisons the medicine, then you will die. Thinking about it this way, this is true everywhere in life, even in life itself. In fact, the danger of Queequeg was not only from falling from the tumbling and shaking whale, but also from the sharks in the sea. Although Queequeg had savagely slaughtered the sharks last night, judging from now, not only did it not have the slightest stopping effect, on the contrary, it made the group of people even more energetic.

These guys were like a group of bees coming out of the nest, full of motivation, and surrounded the bloody whale in three layers. Queequeg was among these sharks. He had to kick away the sharks approaching him one by one with his feet. This scene looked very thrilling. Fortunately, the sharks were so focused on tearing the whale apart that they didn't care about Queequeg's mistreatment of them. I watched Queequeg nervously, and occasionally tugged on the monkey rope tied around his waist to remind him not to lean too low. Tustego and the Big Man were now standing on a hanging ladder beside the ship, jabbing hard with the shovel at the sharks they could get at, and reminding them by force to stay away from Queequeg.

Several times, however, I saw their sharp shovels nearly hit Queequeg in the leg. God bless Queequeg! Thankfully, Queequeg had now done his work. Drenched with a mixture of whale blood and sea water, he rolled over to the side of the ship exhausted. His lips were already blue and trembling and trembling. The waiter hurried up, as is custom in whalers, and offered Queequeg a warming drink. God knows what the distressed and concerned waiter handed him was a cup of lukewarm ginger soup. "Why, it's ginger soup. Are you asking me to drink this thing? Can you tell me that this thing has a fart use?"

Queequeg questioned the waiter angrily. "It's better to drink this stuff than alcohol because..." the waiter argued. "To hell with you!" Queequeg was even more angry. At this moment, Starbuck came over. "Hi, Mr. First Mate." Queequeg called to Starbuck. "Why, is alcohol prohibited on the ship? Otherwise, why did the waiter let me drink this weird thing? Is he trying to poison me, who just came back from God?" Starbuck took the glass and sniffed it. "How can you give Queequeg this, waiter?" he asked the waiter. "Yeah, how come? You know what he needs most now, unless you want him to die!"

Stubb also came to chime in loudly. "Well, stop talking, and go to my cabin quickly. There is wine in my cabin. Give Queequeg what he wants to drink." Starbuck said. Stubb was back in a moment. He held a bottle of spirits in one hand and a large box of tea in the other. While handing the liquor to Queequeg, he threw the tea box in the other hand into the sea. "The devil knows what we want this thing for."