CHAPTER ONE Spouter Inn
CHAPTER ONE
Spouter Inn
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago I set out to sea, having little money and nothing particularly interesting to do on shore. I thought I would sail around the world. Whenever I feel like a cold, wet November morning, and I start following funerals, then I know it's time to go back to the wide open sea. It always makes me feel better because the sea is magic - it has always been magic. It is an endless source of life and mystery.
When I go to sea I always go as a simple sailor and never as a passenger. Why should I pay when I can get paid for my work? I certainly don't mind taking orders from an old sea captain. And if I have to clean the decks, or mend a sail, so what? It's good, honest work and I don't mind it.
The men you meet at sea are both good and bad, and I always try to get along with them. It's wise to be friendly with the people you have to live with on a ship.
But the main reason I want to go to sea is the great whale.
I want to be with those who hunt this mysterious monster.
I put a shirt or two into my bag and left for New Bedford, Massachusetts - that's where you go to find a whaling ship. I didn't know much about the town and it was late and cold when I arrived. I walked up and down the dark streets, looking for a place to stay.
Finally I saw a small light near the docks and an old sign swinging back and forth in the cold wind of the night.
The Spouter Inn - Peter Coffin.
Coffin? What a name for an innkeeper! But it was a cold night and I had nowhere else to go.
The inn was a strange, old place and one part of it leaned to one side. I stood there looking at it for a while. Oh, stop worrying, I thought, you're going whaling soon and that's a hard life! So I entered the Spouter Inn.
It was a small, dark place and the wind howled through the old building. The first thing I saw was an old painting of a ship in a storm, and a giant whale jumping out of the water. It was trying to destroy the ship.
The other sailors in the inn sat at a long table, drinking and talking. I found the landlord, Peter Coffin, and asked him for a room.
"Sorry," he said, "but there's nothing left. Every bed is taken - but if you don't mind sharing a bed with a harpooner, then you have a bed. " "Who is he?" I asked nervously.
"He's not here now," said the landlord, "but if you're going whaling, you had better get used to this sort of thing. " "Well, alright," I replied, "I'll share a bed with any decent man. " "Good," said the landlord. "You want some dinner? Just sit down and it'll be ready soon. " I sat down in the cold inn and waited for dinner. There was no fire and no heat - just a few candles. The landlord said he couldn't afford wood.
After dinner I wanted to go to bed, but I was worried about the harpooner I didn't know.
"What kind of man is this harpooner?" I asked the landlord. "Why isn't he here? " "Oh, he's out trying to sell his head. " "What!" I said, thinking it was a joke.
The landlord and the other sailors started laughing.
"He's sold the other four already and now he's trying to sell the fifth. Maybe he's a cannibal - I don't know, but he pays on time and that's all I care about. " I was very tired and not interested in nonsense. I just wanted to go to bed, so I went up to the harpooner's room, which was cold and dark. The man's things were all over the room - a huge harpoon, an old sailor's bag and fish hooks.
I got into bed and tried to sleep but the mattress was terribly uncomfortable. I soon heard the door open and saw a huge man with a candle in one hand and a human head in the other - so this was the harpooner.
The light of the candle lit up his face and I was very surprised - I suddenly felt cold. I had never seen anyone like him before. His skin was a purplish yellow, and his face and body were covered with strange tattoos. There was no hair on his head except for a single lock of black hair. I'm not a coward but I immediately thought of running out the door or jumping out the window. I was so scared that I thought the devil himself had entered the room that night.
The harpooner got undressed, lit a small fire and said some kind of prayer to an evil-looking black doll he had pulled out of his pocket. Then he got into bed.
"Who you?" cried the harpooner in a deep voice, lifting his tomahawk. "What you do in my bed? I kill you! " "Peter Coffin! Help me!" I shouted. "Save me! " After a moment Peter Coffin came into the room and said, "Don't worry, Queequeg won't hurt you." Then he turned to Queequeg and said, "This man is sharing the bed with you tonight, understand? " Queequeg was suddenly calm and put down his tomahawk saying, "Me tired. Don't speak now. " He seemed quiet and fell asleep immediately. I felt that I had nothing to be afraid of. After all, he was a clean, peaceful cannibal, and it was better to sleep with a sober cannibal than with a drunk Christian. I turned over and fell asleep. I never slept better in my life.