« Sing out for him! » was the impulsive rejoinder from a score of clubbed voices.

« Good! » cried Ahab, with a wild approval in his tones; observing the hearty animation into which his unexpected question had so magnetically thrown them.

« And what do ye next, men? »

« Lower away, and after him! »

« And what tune is it ye pull to, men? »

« A dead whale or a stove boat! »

More and more strangely and fiercely glad and approving, grew the countenance of the old man at every shout; while the mariners began to gaze curiously at each other, as if marvelling how it was that they themselves became so excited at such seemingly purposeless questions.

But, they were all eagerness again, as Ahab, now half-revolving in his pivot-hole, with one hand reaching high up a shroud, and tightly, almost convulsively grasping it, addressed them thus:—

« All ye mast-headers have before now heard me give orders about a white whale. Look ye! d’ye see this Spanish ounce of gold? »—holding up a broad bright coin to the sun— »it is a sixteen dollar piece, men. D’ye see it? Mr. Starbuck, hand me yon top-maul. »