old shipmate, we must go. Back the main-yard there! Boat ahoy! Stand by to come close alongside, now! Careful, careful! — come, Bildad, boy — say your last. Luck to ye, Starbuck — luck to ye, Mr. Stubb — luck to ye, Mr. Flask — good-bye and good luck to ye all — and this day three years I’ll have a hot supper smoking for ye in old Nantucket. Hurrah and away!”

“God bless ye, and have ye in His holy keeping, men,” murmured old Bildad, almost incoherently. “I hope ye’ll have fine weather now, so that Captain Ahab may soon be moving among ye — a pleasant sun is all he needs, and ye’ll have plenty of them in the tropic voyage ye go.

Be careful in the hunt, ye mates. Don’t stave the boats needlessly, ye