{"id":"01KFNR8B6FS9DQ5VVY5D5B3Y6K","cid":"bafkreibscixdzoxrhoiikwqzomxxkflnro4k4fwdjs3hy2v3ymq2n3ydyq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":18618,"extracted_at":"2026-01-23T15:41:06.405Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KFNR0Z394A878Y5AQ63MQEM2","start_line":18559,"text":"John. And meet it is, that over these sea-pastures, wide-rolling watery\r\nprairies and Potters’ Fields of all four continents, the waves should\r\nrise and fall, and ebb and flow unceasingly; for here, millions of\r\nmixed shades and shadows, drowned dreams, somnambulisms, reveries; all\r\nthat we call lives and souls, lie dreaming, dreaming, still; tossing\r\nlike slumberers in their beds; the ever-rolling waves but made so by\r\ntheir restlessness.\r\n\r\nTo any meditative Magian rover, this serene Pacific, once beheld, must\r\never after be the sea of his adoption. It rolls the midmost waters of\r\nthe world, the Indian ocean and Atlantic being but its arms. The same\r\nwaves wash the moles of the new-built Californian towns, but yesterday\r\nplanted by the recentest race of men, and lave the faded but still\r\ngorgeous skirts of Asiatic lands, older than Abraham; while all between\r\nfloat milky-ways of coral isles, and low-lying, endless, unknown\r\nArchipelagoes, and impenetrable Japans. Thus this mysterious, divine\r\nPacific zones the world’s whole bulk about; makes all coasts one bay to\r\nit; seems the tide-beating heart of earth. Lifted by those eternal\r\nswells, you needs must own the seductive god, bowing your head to Pan.\r\n\r\nBut few thoughts of Pan stirred Ahab’s brain, as standing like an iron\r\nstatue at his accustomed place beside the mizen rigging, with one\r\nnostril he unthinkingly snuffed the sugary musk from the Bashee isles\r\n(in whose sweet woods mild lovers must be walking), and with the other\r\nconsciously inhaled the salt breath of the new found sea; that sea in\r\nwhich the hated White Whale must even then be swimming. Launched at\r\nlength upon these almost final waters, and gliding towards the Japanese\r\ncruising-ground, the old man’s purpose intensified itself. His firm\r\nlips met like the lips of a vice; the Delta of his forehead’s veins\r\nswelled like overladen brooks; in his very sleep, his ringing cry ran\r\nthrough the vaulted hull, “Stern all! the White Whale spouts thick\r\nblood!”\r\n\r\n\r\nCHAPTER 112. The Blacksmith.\r\n\r\nAvailing himself of the mild, summer-cool weather that now reigned in\r\nthese latitudes, and in preparation for the peculiarly active pursuits\r\nshortly to be anticipated, Perth, the begrimed, blistered old\r\nblacksmith, had not removed his portable forge to the hold again, after\r\nconcluding his contributory work for Ahab’s leg, but still retained it\r\non deck, fast lashed to ringbolts by the foremast; being now almost\r\nincessantly invoked by the headsmen, and harpooneers, and bowsmen to do\r\nsome little job for them; altering, or repairing, or new shaping their\r\nvarious weapons and boat furniture. Often he would be surrounded by an\r\neager circle, all waiting to be served; holding boat-spades,\r\npike-heads, harpoons, and lances, and jealously watching his every\r\nsooty movement, as he toiled. Nevertheless, this old man’s was a\r\npatient hammer wielded by a patient arm. No murmur, no impatience, no\r\npetulance did come from him. Silent, slow, and solemn; bowing over\r\nstill further his chronically broken back, he toiled away, as if toil\r\nwere life itself, and the heavy beating of his hammer the heavy beating\r\nof his heart. And so it was.—Most miserable!\r\n\r\nA peculiar walk in this old man, a certain slight but painful appearing\r\nyawing in his gait, had at an early period of the voyage excited the\r\ncuriosity of the mariners. And to the importunity of their persisted\r\nquestionings he had finally given in; and so it came to pass that every\r\none now knew the shameful story of his wretched fate.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KFNR84EGVKVZJN297R0MQBMY","peer_label":"The Carpenter","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KFNR84EGVKVZJN297R0MQBMY","peer_label":"The Carpenter","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"partOf"},{"peer":"01KFNR81RMVAX2BBMMBW51V97D","peer_label":"Moby Dick; Or, The Whale","peer_type":"novel","predicate":"partOf"},{"peer":"01KFNR0H0Q791Y1SMZWEQ09FGV","peer_label":"Moby Dick","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KFNR8B5YSCS5R1FN569Q3M8N","peer_label":"Chunk 2","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"},{"peer":"01KFNR8B5ZKHS34C5Q4K6S0Z0W","peer_label":"Chunk 0","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-23T15:41:06.933Z","ts":"2026-01-23T15:41:17.710Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}