Only one thing could be done. Seizing the boat-knife, he critically
reached within--through--and then, without--the rays of steel;
dragged in the line beyond, passed it, inboard, to the bowsman,
and then, twice sundering the rope near the chocks--dropped the
intercepted fagot of steel into the sea; and was all fast again.
That instant, the White Whale made a sudden rush among the remaining
tangles of the other lines; by so doing, irresistibly dragged
the more involved boats of Stubb and Flask towards his flukes;
dashed them together like two rolling husks on a surf-beaten beach,
and then, diving down into the sea, disappeared in a boiling maelstrom,
in which, for a space, the odorous cedar chips of the wrecks danced
round and round, like the grated nutmeg in a swiftly stirred
bowl of punch.
While the two crews were yet circling in the waters, reaching out
after the revolving line-tubs, oars, and other floating furniture,
while aslope little Flask bobbed up and down like an empty vial,
twitching his legs upwards to escape the dreaded jaws of sharks;
and Stubb was lustily singing out for some one to ladle him up;
and while the old man's line--now parting--admitted of his
pulling into the creamy pool to rescue whom he could;--
in that wild simultaneousness of a thousand concreted perils,--
Ahab's yet unstricken boat seemed drawn up towards Heaven by
invisible wires,--as, arrow-like, shooting perpendicularly from the sea,
the White Whale dashed his broad forehead against its bottom,
and sent it turning over and over, into the air; till it fell again--
gunwale downwards--and Ahab and his men struggled out from under it,
like seals from a sea-side cave.
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