{"id":"01KG8AP6HT7KQ27XNGT3P2PPJY","cid":"bafkreig7wcvip5mpi7x2s3lplrqycksbud2evwivi2hakiyjl54ntbbzia","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":3268,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:49:30.764Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 44","source_file":"01KG89J198KE6FY8WPVJQQRCZ6","start_line":3208,"text":"myself, for the present irrespective of Queequeg.\r\n\r\nI have forgotten to mention that, in many things, Queequeg placed great\r\nconfidence in the excellence of Yojo’s judgment and surprising forecast\r\nof things; and cherished Yojo with considerable esteem, as a rather\r\ngood sort of god, who perhaps meant well enough upon the whole, but in\r\nall cases did not succeed in his benevolent designs.\r\n\r\nNow, this plan of Queequeg’s, or rather Yojo’s, touching the selection\r\nof our craft; I did not like that plan at all. I had not a little\r\nrelied upon Queequeg’s sagacity to point out the whaler best fitted to\r\ncarry us and our fortunes securely. But as all my remonstrances\r\nproduced no effect upon Queequeg, I was obliged to acquiesce; and\r\naccordingly prepared to set about this business with a determined\r\nrushing sort of energy and vigor, that should quickly settle that\r\ntrifling little affair. Next morning early, leaving Queequeg shut up\r\nwith Yojo in our little bedroom—for it seemed that it was some sort of\r\nLent or Ramadan, or day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer with\r\nQueequeg and Yojo that day; _how_ it was I never could find out, for,\r\nthough I applied myself to it several times, I never could master his\r\nliturgies and XXXIX Articles—leaving Queequeg, then, fasting on his\r\ntomahawk pipe, and Yojo warming himself at his sacrificial fire of\r\nshavings, I sallied out among the shipping. After much prolonged\r\nsauntering and many random inquiries, I learnt that there were three\r\nships up for three-years’ voyages—The Devil-dam, the Tit-bit, and the\r\nPequod. _Devil-Dam_, I do not know the origin of; _Tit-bit_ is obvious;\r\n_Pequod_, you will no doubt remember, was the name of a celebrated\r\ntribe of Massachusetts Indians; now extinct as the ancient Medes. I\r\npeered and pryed about the Devil-dam; from her, hopped over to the\r\nTit-bit; and finally, going on board the Pequod, looked around her for\r\na moment, and then decided that this was the very ship for us.\r\n\r\nYou may have seen many a quaint craft in your day, for aught I\r\nknow;—square-toed luggers; mountainous Japanese junks; butter-box\r\ngalliots, and what not; but take my word for it, you never saw such a\r\nrare old craft as this same rare old Pequod. She was a ship of the old\r\nschool, rather small if anything; with an old-fashioned claw-footed\r\nlook about her. Long seasoned and weather-stained in the typhoons and\r\ncalms of all four oceans, her old hull’s complexion was darkened like a\r\nFrench grenadier’s, who has alike fought in Egypt and Siberia. Her\r\nvenerable bows looked bearded. Her masts—cut somewhere on the coast of\r\nJapan, where her original ones were lost overboard in a gale—her masts\r\nstood stiffly up like the spines of the three old kings of Cologne. Her\r\nancient decks were worn and wrinkled, like the pilgrim-worshipped\r\nflag-stone in Canterbury Cathedral where Becket bled. But to all these\r\nher old antiquities, were added new and marvellous features, pertaining\r\nto the wild business that for more than half a century she had\r\nfollowed. Old Captain Peleg, many years her chief-mate, before he\r\ncommanded another vessel of his own, and now a retired seaman, and one\r\nof the principal owners of the Pequod,—this old Peleg, during the term\r\nof his chief-mateship, had built upon her original grotesqueness, and\r\ninlaid it, all over, with a quaintness both of material and device,\r\nunmatched by anything except it be Thorkill-Hake’s carved buckler or\r\nbedstead. She was apparelled like any barbaric Ethiopian emperor, his\r\nneck heavy with pendants of polished ivory. She was a thing of\r\ntrophies. A cannibal of a craft, tricking herself forth in the chased\r\nbones of her enemies. All round, her unpanelled, open bulwarks were\r\ngarnished like one continuous jaw, with the long sharp teeth of the\r\nsperm whale, inserted there for pins, to fasten her old hempen thews\r\nand tendons to. Those thews ran not through base blocks of land wood,\r\nbut deftly travelled over sheaves of sea-ivory. Scorning a turnstile\r","title":"Chunk 44"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AK7FP6P1V67V3ATJHHZ83","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J198KE6FY8WPVJQQRCZ6","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AP5XTQD3N1Z62Q3ZHEZTC","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AP6HT7X40HW6RW4QZ60KY","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:49:34.778Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:49:41.320Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}