perhaps i was over sensitive to such impressions at the time, but i could not help staring at this gallows with a vague misgiving. a sort of crick was in my neck as i gazed up to the two remaining horns; yes, two of them, one for queequeg, and one for me. it’s ominous, thinks i. a coffin my innkeeper upon landing in my first whaling port; tombstones staring at me in the whalemen’s chapel; and here a gallows!