It was obvious,
now, that the whale had at length become aware of his pursuers.
All silence of cautiousness was therefore no longer of use.
Paddles were dropped, and oars came loudly into play.
And still puffing at his pipe, Stubb cheered on his crew
to the assault.
Yes, a mighty change had come over the fish. All alive to his jeopardy,
he was going "head out"; that part obliquely projecting from the mad
yeast which he brewed.*
*It will be seen in some other place of what a very light substance
the entire interior of the sperm whale's enormous head consists.
Though apparently the most massive, it is by far the most buoyant
part about him. So that with ease he elevates it in the air,
and invariably does so when going at his utmost speed.
Besides, such is the breadth of the upper part of the front of his head,
and such the tapering cut-water formation of the lower part,
that by obliquely elevating his head, he thereby may be said
to transform himself from a bluff-bowed sluggish galliot into
a sharppointed New York pilot-boat.
"Start her, start her, my men! Don't hurry yourselves; take plenty
of time--but start her; start her like thunder-claps, that's all,"
cried Stubb, spluttering out the smoke as he spoke.
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