Walking the wharf with Queequeg and his harpoon, Ishmael is hailed from Peleg's wigwam: no cannibals aboard without papers, and Bildad demands proof of conversion, communion with a Christian church, son of darkness. Ishmael bluffs deaconhood in the First Congregational Church until Deacon Deuteronomy's meeting-house traps him, then preaches the great everlasting First Congregation of the whole worshipping world where all join hands on the grand belief despite queer private crotchets.
Splice, thou mean'st splice hands, Peleg cries, laughing off papers and asking if Quohog ever stood in a whale-boat head; Queequeg jumps into a hanging boat, names a tar drop on the water a whale eye, and darts his iron over Bildad's broad brim clean across the decks, striking the glistening spot out of sight: spos-ee him whale-e eye, dad whale dead. Peleg, aghast, orders ship's papers and offers the ninetieth lay, more than any Nantucket harpooneer has had.
In the cabin Queequeg copies his arm tattoo as signature while Peleg misspells him Quohog. his X mark; Bildad presses The Latter Day Coming and fiery-pit warnings until Peleg avasts, citing Nat Swaine ruined by soul-fear and insisting that in the Japan typhoon with Captain Ahab, when masts thundered and seas broke over the Pequod, he thought only of life, jury-masts, and port, not Death and Judgment. Bildad buttons up and saves tarred twine on deck while sailmakers mend canvas.
Words opened the gate; the harpoon walked through it. When Ishmael and Queequeg leave the signed Pequod, will the ragged stranger on the docks read their papers as souls already sold, or as men who bought a berth with sermon and iron?
Coming Up in Chapter 19
Queequeg and Ishmael have just left the Pequod when a shabby stranger stops them and levels a finger at the ship. Smallpox has ribbed his face like a dried torrent-bed. He asks if they have shipped in that ship, then names the Pequod and shoves his whole arm out toward her as if the name itself were a warning.
