in fact, as I before hinted, I
didn't then know what whale it was that had served me such a trick, till
some time afterwards, when coming back to the Line, we heard about Moby
Dick--as some call him--and then I knew it was he."

"Did'st thou cross his wake again?"

"Twice."

"But could not fasten?"

"Didn't want to try to: ain't one limb enough? What should I do without
this other arm? And I'm thinking Moby Dick doesn't bite so much as he
swallows."

"Well, then," interrupted Bunger, "give him your left arm for bait to
get the right. Do you know, gentlemen"--very gravely and mathematically
bowing to each Captain in succession--"Do you know, gentlemen, that the
digestive organs of the whale are so inscrutably constructed by Divine
Providence, that it is quite impossible for him to completely digest
even a man's arm? And he knows it too. So that what you take for the
White Whale's malice is only his awkwardness. For he never means
to swallow a single limb; he only thinks to terrify by feints. But
sometimes he is like the old juggling fellow, formerly a patient of mine
in Ceylon, that making believe swallow jack-knives, once upon a time let
one drop into him in good earnest, and there it stayed for a twelvemonth
or more; when I gave him an emetic, and he heaved it up in small tacks,
d'ye see. No possible way for him to digest that jack-knife, and fully
incorporate it into his general bodily system. Yes, Captain Boomer, if
you are quick enough about it, and have a mind to pawn one arm for the
sake of the privilege of giving decent burial to the other, why in that
case the arm is yours; only let the whale have another chance at you
shortly, that's all."

"No, thank ye, Bunger," said the English Captain, "he's welcome to the
arm he has, since I can't help it, and didn't know him then; but not to
another one. No more White Whales for me; I've lowered for him once, and
that has satisfied me. There would be great glory in killing him, I know
that; and there is a ship-load of precious sperm in him, but, hark ye,
he's best let alone; don't you think so, Captain?"--glancing at the
ivory leg.

"He is. But he will still be hunted, for all that. What is best let
alone, that accursed thing is not always what least allures. He's all a
magnet! How long since thou saw'st him last? Which way heading?"

"Bless my soul, and curse the foul fiend's," cried Bunger, stoopingly
walking round Ahab, and like a dog, strangely snuffing; "th