- Year Published: 1851
- Language: English
- Country of Origin: United States of America
- Source: Melville H. (1851). Moby Dick.London, England: Richard Bently.
- Flesch–Kincaid Level: 9.8
- Word Count: 339
Melville, H. (1851). Chapter 43: Hark!. Moby Dick (Lit2Go Edition). Retrieved April 23, 2014, from
Melville, Herman. "Chapter 43: Hark!." Moby Dick. Lit2Go Edition. 1851. Web. <>. April 23, 2014.
Herman Melville, "Chapter 43: Hark!," Moby Dick, Lit2Go Edition, (1851), accessed April 23, 2014,.
HIST! Did you hear that noise, Cabaco?
It was the middle-watch: a fair moonlight; the seamen were standing in a cordon, extending from one of the fresh-water butts in the waist, to the scuttle-butt near the taffrail. In this manner, they passed the buckets to fill the scuttle-butt. Standing, for the most part, on the hallowed precincts of the quarter-deck, they were careful not to speak or rustle their feet. From hand to hand, the buckets went in the deepest silence, only broken by the occasional flap of a sail, and the steady hum of the unceasingly advancing keel.
It was in the midst of this repose, that Archy, one of the cordon, whose post was near the after-hatches, whispered to his neighbor, a Cholo, the words above.
“Hist! did you hear that noise, Cabaco?”
“Take the bucket, will ye, Archy? what noise d’ye mean?”
“There it is again- under the hatches- don’t you hear it- a cough- it sounded like a cough.”
“Cough be damned! Pass along that return bucket.”
“There again- there it is!- it sounds like two or three sleepers turning over, now!”
“Caramba! have done, shipmate, will ye? It’s the three soaked biscuits ye eat for supper turning over inside of ye- nothing else. Look to the bucket!”
“Say what ye will, shipmate; I’ve sharp ears.”
“Aye, you are the chap, ain’t ye, that heard the hum of the old Quakeress’s knitting-needles fifty miles at sea from Nantucket; you’re the chap.”
“Grin away; we’ll see what turns up. Hark ye, Cabaco, there is somebody down in the after-hold that has not yet been seen on deck; and I suspect our old Mogul knows something of it too. I heard Stubb tell Flask, one morning watch, that there was something of that sort in the wind.”
“Tish! the bucket!”