But when he was helped to the deck, all eyes were fastened upon him; as instead of standing by himself he still half-hung upon the shoulder of Starbuck, who had thus far been the foremost to assist him.  His ivory leg had been snapped off, leaving but one short sharp splinter.

“Aye, aye, Starbuck, ’tis sweet to lean sometimes, be the leaner who he will; and would old Ahab had leaned oftener than he has.”

“The ferrule has not stood, sir,” said the carpenter, now coming up; I put good work into that leg.”

“But no bones broken, sir, I hope,” said Stubb with true concern.

“Aye! and all splintered to pieces, Stubb!—­d’ye see it.—­ But even with a broken bone, old Ahab is untouched; and I account no living bone of mine one jot more me, than this dead one that’s lost.  Nor white whale, nor man, nor fiend, can so much as graze old Ahab in his own proper and inaccessible being.  Can any lead touch yonder floor, any mast scrape yonder roof?—­ Aloft there! which way?”

“Dead to leeward, sir.”

“Up helm, then; pile on the sail again, ship keepers! down the rest of the spare boats and rig them—­Mr. Starbuck away, and muster the boat’s crews.”

“Let me first help thee towards the bulwarks, sir.”

“Oh, oh, oh! how this splinter gores me now!  Accursed fate! that the unconquerable captain in the soul should have such a craven mate!”

“Sir?”

“My body, man, not thee.  Give me something for a cane—­there, that shivered lance will do.  Muster the men.  Surely I have not seen him yet.  By heaven it cannot be!—­missing?—­quick! call them all.”

The old man’s hinted thought was true.  Upon mustering the company, the Parsee was not there.

“The Parsee!” cried Stubb—­“he must have been caught in-”

“The black vomit wrench thee!—­run all of ye above, alow, cabin, forecastle—­find him—­not gone—­not gone!”

But quickly they returned to him with the tidings that the Parsee was nowhere to be found.

“Aye, sir,” said Stubb—­“caught among the tangles of your line—­ I thought I saw him dragging under.”

“My line! my line?  Gone?—­gone?  What means that little word?—­ What death-knell rings in it, that old Ahab shakes as if he were the belfry.  The harpoon, too!—­toss over the litter there,—­ d’ye see it?—­the forged iron, men, the white whale’s—­no, no, no,—­ blistered fool; this hand did dart it!—­’tis in the fish!—­Aloft there!  Keep him nailed-Quick!—­all hands to the rigging of the boats—­ collect the oars—­harpooneers! the irons, the irons!—­hoist the royals higher—­a pull on all the sheets!—­helm there! steady, steady for your life!  I’ll ten times girdle the unmeasured globe; yea and dive straight through it, but I’ll slay him yet!