At the same foam-fountain, Queequeg seemed to drink and reel with me. His dusky nostrils swelled apart;
he showed his filed and pointed teeth. On, on we flew; and our offing gained, the Moss did homage to the blast;
ducked and dived her bows as a slave before the Sultan. Sideways leaning, we sideways darted;
every ropeyarn tingling like a wire; the two tall masts buckling like Indian canes in land tornadoes.
So full of this reeling scene were we, as we stood by the plunging bowsprit,
that for some time we did not notice the jeering glances of the passengers, a lubber-like assembly, who marvelled that two fellow beings should be so companionable;
as though a white man were anything more dignified than a whitewashed negro.
Queequeg caught one of these young saplings mimicking him behind his back.
I thought the bumpkin's hour of doom was come. Dropping his harpoon, the brawny savage caught him in his arms,
and by an almost miraculous dexterity and strength, sent him high up bodily into the air; then slightly tapping his stern in mid-somerset,
the fellow landed with bursting lungs upon his feet, while Queequeg, turning his back upon him, lighted his tomahawk pipe and passed it to me for a puff.
Capting! Capting!" yelled the bumpkin, running towards that officer; Capting, Capting, here's the devil.