Chapter 3 The Chapel I woke up the next morning feeling rested and refreshed.
Queequeg woke up at the same time.
I watched him wash at the basin, then dress.
He put on his waistcoat and hat.
Then, taking his harpoon, he left the room without a word.
I followed him shortly after.
All the other guests at the breakfast table were whalers.
This time they all sat quietly and ate.
I thought this was very funny, as sailors were known to be loud and talkative.
Perhaps that was only when at sea or just back from a long voyage.
Queequeg sat at the head of the table.
He ate nothing but meat.
No rolls, no butter, just meat.
After breakfast, everyone went into the parlor.
I went outside for a stroll.
I had never been to New Bedford before.
I was surprised by all of the different people.
There were men of almost every color, and people seemed to wear whatever they wanted.
One man wore a beaver hat, a fancy waistcoat, and a wide belt with a knife stuck down one side.
I made my way to a chapel.
I am a Christian but do not make it to church every Sunday.
It's hard to keep a routine when I'm at sea so often.
The sermon was just about to start.
I sat down among sailors, sailors' wives, and sailors' widows, and waited.
All around the chapel there were plaques.
These signs were put up in memory of sailors who had died at sea.
They were donated by their families and shipmates.
I looked to my left.
I was surprised to see Queequeg sitting down the row from me.
I knew he was not Christian.
He carried a little pagan doll with him that he prayed to.
I had seen it with him in the hotel room.
Quickweg nodded when he saw me.
He then went back to waiting patiently for the sermon to begin.
The minister walked to the front of the chapel.
Father Mapple was an older man.
He was very tall, and he had a mane of wild gray hair.
He was well known as a former whaler and harpooner.
I had heard talk of him from other whalers before I arrived.
Father Mapple climbed a ladder to reach the pulpit.
He did this slowly and with dramatic flair.
When he reached the top, he dragged the ladder up.
Now no one could climb up and he could not climb down.
He looked like a sailor in the crow's nest, high atop the mast of a ship.
Father Mapple called the room to order, Gangway to starboard, midships, midships.
He was using the language that sailors use on a ship.
He was telling the crowd to move in from the sides and take their seats.
Just as Father Mapple began to speak, a terrible storm started outside.
Wind and rain whipped against the windows.
The minister was not bothered, though.
His voice was calm and strong.
No one else was bothered about the weather, either.
They were only concerned with Father Mapple's words.
He told the story of Jonah in the belly of the whale.
You know it from the Bible, he said to the crowd.
You've heard the story, but have you listened to the words?
He recounted how Jonah did not want to follow God's wishes.
He tried to escape by ship.
When terrible storms arose, the crew realized it was Jonah causing the problems.
He was thrown overboard and swallowed by a whale.
Jonah did not pray for immediate delivery.
He knew that his punishment was just.
He had sinned and needed time in his whale prison.
He knew that he would be saved if God believed he deserved it.
The minister wanted everyone to understand that if they did sin and they should try not to they should repent like Jonah.
The men in this chapel understood how frightening a whale could be.
They all had faced the beasts many times.
Father Mapple reminded the whalers to ask God to forgive them when they sinned.
That was how Jonah was saved from the belly of the whale.
When I returned to the Spouter Inn, I found Queequeg sitting before the fire.
He was flipping through the pages of a book.
Every fifteen pages or so, he stopped and looked around the room.
This gave me a chance to look at him more closely.
I realized at that moment that there was no hiding of the soul.
He might be covered in black tattoos something very strange to me but you could plainly see that he had a simple, honest heart.
As we both sat there, Queequeg said nothing to me.
In fact, he acted as though I was not in the room.
I thought this strange, considering we had been roommates the night before.
Was that not worth a nod to say hello?
It occurred to me that I had not seen Queequeg talk with any of the other men, either.
He seemed to keep entirely to himself, so I decided that I should make a friend of him.
I pulled my chair up to his bench.
I recalled what had happened the night before and how frightened I had been when he entered the room.
This made Queequeg smile a bit.
He asked if we would be roommates again.
When I said yes, he seemed pleased.
Can you read?
I asked.
I pointed to the book in his lap.
He shook his head no.
I then explained to him the text of the book.
It was about whaling, of course, and our conversation came quite easy after that.
We talked about the sights around town and the places we had traveled.
After some time, Queequeg hugged me and pressed his forehead to mine.
He called us buddies.
I will die for you, he said.
He slapped me on my back.
If it must be, I will die for you.
Now for my countrymen, that was an odd thing to say so shortly after meeting someone.
Queequeg, though, it was a social custom.
To him it did not seem strange at all, so I did not consider it strange either.
He also wanted to share with me all his material goods.
He took out thirty dollars in silver that he had in his pocket.
He divided this in two and gave me half.
I tried to say no, but he would not listen.
He simply dropped the coins into my trouser pockets.
Queequeg told me about his home.
He came from Cocovoco, an island far to the west and far to the south.
It's not on any map.
True places never are.
He said he had a wonderful childhood.
His father was a tribal chief, and Queequeg was in line to take over one day.
He loved his home, but wanted to see more of the world.
When an American whaling ship docked in his harbor, he decided to join the crew.
Over the years, Queequeg attempted to fit in.
He wore clothes like his shipmates.
He talked in their strange language.
He even tried to follow their Christian religion, but he couldn't quite do it.
He found that they said one thing and then did another.
For this, he decided to stay a pagan.
I asked him if he considered going home soon.
No, he said, shaking his head.
I worry that I have changed too much to go home.
Your Christian world is very different from mine.
Then he asked what brought me to New Bedford.
I told him that I had decided to try my hand at whaling.
I had been to sea many times but never on a whaling ship.
My next destination was Nantucket to find work.
Queequeg said that he would accompany me.
He would get work on the same ship and we would stay together.
I was very happy to hear this.
