All these queer proceedings increased myuncomfortableness, and seeing him now exhibitingstrong symptoms of concluding his business operations, and jumping into bed with me, Ithought it was high time, now or never, before the light was put out, to break the spell in whichI had so long been bound.
But the interval I spent in deliberating what to say, was a fatal one. Taking up his tomahawkfrom the table, he examined the head of it for an instant, and then holding it to the light, withhis mouth at the handle, he puffed out great clouds of tobacco smoke. The next moment thelight was extinguished, and this wild cannibal, tomahawk between his teeth, sprang into bedwith me. I sang out, I could not help it now; and giving a sudden grunt of astonishment hebegan feeling me.
Stammering out something, I knew not what, I rolled away from him against the wall, and thenconjured him, whoever or whatever he might be, to keep quiet, and let me get up and light thelamp again. But his guttural responses satisfied me at once that he but ill comprehended mymeaning.
"Who-e debel you?"—he at last said—"you no speak-e, dam-me, I kill-e." And so saying thelighted tomahawk began flourishing about me in the dark.
"Landlord, for God's sake, Peter Coffin!" shouted I. "Landlord! Watch! Coffin! Angels! save me!"
"Speak-e! tell-ee me who-ee be, or dam-me, I kill-e!" again growled the cannibal, while hishorrid flourishings of the tomahawk scattered the hot tobacco ashes about me till I thought mylinen would get on fire. But thank heaven, at that moment the landlord came into the roomlight in hand, and leaping from the bed I ran up to him.
"Don't be afraid now," said he, grinning again, "Queequeg here wouldn't harm a hair of yourhead."
"Stop your grinning," shouted I, "and why didn't you tell me that that infernal harpooneer was acannibal?"
"I thought ye know'd it;—didn't I tell ye, he was a peddlin' heads around town?—but turn flukesagain and go to sleep. Queequeg, look here—you sabbee me, I sabbee—you this man sleepe you—you sabbee?"
"Me sabbee plenty"—grunted Queequeg, puffing away at his pipe and sitting up in bed.
"You gettee in," he added, motioning to me with his tomahawk, and throwing the clothes to oneside. He really did this in not only a civil but a really kind and charitable way. I stood lookingat him a moment. For all his tattooings he was on the whole a clean, comely looking cannibal.What's all this fuss I have been making about, thought I to myself—the man's a human beingjust as I am: he has just as much reason to fear me, as I have to be afraid of him. Better sleepwith a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian.
"Landlord," said I, "tell him to stash his tomahawk there, or pipe, or whatever you call it; tellhim to stop smoking, in short, and I will turn in with him. But I don't fancy having a mansmoking in bed with me. It's dangerous. Besides, I ain't insured."
This being told to Queequeg, he at once complied, and again politely motioned me to get intobed—rolling over to one side as much as to say—"I won't touch a leg of ye."
"Good night, landlord," said I, "you may go."
I turned in, and never slept better in my life.