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As I walked away , I was full of thoughtfulness ; what had been incidentally revealed to me of Captain Ahab , filled me with a certain wild vagueness of painfulness concerning him . And somehow , at the time , I felt a sympathy and a sorrow for him , but for I don’t know what , unless it was the cruel loss of his leg . And yet I also felt a strange awe of him ; but that sort of awe , which I cannot at all describe , was not exactly awe ; I do not know what it was . But I felt it ; and it did not disincline me towards him ; though I felt impatience at what seemed like mystery in him , so imperfectly as he was known to me then . However , my thoughts were at length carried in other directions , so that for the present dark Ahab slipped my mind . CHAPTER 17 . The Ramadan . As Queequeg’s Ramadan , or Fasting and Humiliation , was to continue all day , I did not choose to disturb him till towards night - fall ; for I cherish the greatest respect towards everybody’s religious obligations , never mind how comical , and could not find it in my heart to undervalue even a congregation of ants worshipping a toad - stool ; or those other creatures in certain parts of our earth , who with a degree of footmanism quite unprecedented in other planets , bow down before the torso of a deceased landed proprietor merely on account of the inordinate possessions yet owned and rented in his name . I say , we good Presbyterian Christians should be charitable in these things , and not fancy ourselves so vastly superior to other mortals , pagans and what not , because of their half - crazy conceits on these subjects . There was Queequeg , now , certainly entertaining the most absurd notions about Yojo and his Ramadan ; — but what of that ? Queequeg thought he knew what he was about , I suppose ; he seemed to be content ; and there let him rest . All our arguing with him would not avail ; let him be , I say : and Heaven have mercy on us all — Presbyterians and Pagans alike — for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head , and sadly need mending . Towards evening , when I felt assured that all his performances and rituals must be over , I went up to his room and knocked at the door ; but no answer . I tried to open it , but it was fastened inside . “ Queequeg , ” said I softly through the key - hole : — all silent . “ I say , Queequeg ! why don’t you speak ? It’s I — Ishmael . ” But all remained still as before . I began to grow alarmed . I had allowed him such abundant time ; I thought he might have had an apoplectic fit . I looked through the key - hole ; but the door opening into an odd corner of the room , the key - hole prospect was but a crooked and sinister one . I could only see part of the foot - board of the bed and a line of the wall , but nothing more . I was surprised to behold resting against the wall the wooden shaft of Queequeg’s harpoon , which the landlady the evening previous had taken from him , before our mounting to the chamber . That’s strange , thought I ; but at any rate , since the harpoon stands yonder , and he seldom or never goes abroad without it , therefore he must be inside here , and no possible mistake .
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