“New man.”
That was how Bootstrap first met the cannibal. They were all lined up on the deck, watching Davy collecting souls, until he got to the end of the line, looked at the fellow there, and without even asking, pulled him to his feet with the big long octopus arm.
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He was a very quiet man, who never joined in the singing and dancing at night, who never seemed to be around when you wanted him, who never did what everyone else did because he was always somewhere else by himself. You could often see him up in the sails, watching for whales; or out at the stern, staring into the water. Rumour had it he wanted to be a harpoonist, but he didn’t know how. Rumour had it he had asked the best harpoonist in New Bedford for instruction, and been laughed at.
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