"In heaven's name, man," cried Stubb, "are you ramming
home a cartridge there?--Avast! How will that help him;
jamming that iron-bound bucket on top of his head?
Avast, will ye!"
"Stand clear of the tackle!" cried a voice like the bursting
of a rocket.
Almost in the same instant, with a thunder-boom, the enormous
mass dropped into the sea, like Niagara's Table-Rock into
the whirlpool; the suddenly relieved hull rolled away from it,
to far down her glittering copper; and all caught their breath,
as half swinging--now over the sailors' heads, and now
over the water--Daggoo, through a thick mist of spray,
was dimly beheld clinging to the pendulous tackles, while poor,
buried-alive Tashtego was sinking utterly down to the bottom
of the sea! But hardly had the blinding vapor cleared away,
when a naked figure with a boardingsword in his hand,
was for one swift moment seen hovering over the bulwarks.
The next, a loud splash announced that my brave Queequeg had
dived to the rescue. One packed rush was made to the side,
and every eye counted every ripple, as moment followed moment,
and no sign of either the sinker or the diver could be seen.
Some hands now jumped into a boat alongside, and pushed a little
off from the ship.
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