Not P but Moby-Dick (111)

[Mike Jing]

>From Chapter 135:

Hearing the tremendous rush of the sea-crashing boat, the whale wheeled
round to present his blank forehead at bay; but in that evolution, catching
sight of the nearing black hull of the ship; seemingly seeing in it the
source of all his persecutions; bethinking it—it may be—a larger and nobler
foe; of a sudden, he bore down upon its advancing prow, smiting his jaws
amid fiery showers of foam.

Ahab staggered; his hand smote his forehead. “I grow blind; hands! stretch
out before me that I may yet grope my way. Is’t night?”

Here, is Ahab talking about his own hands, or is it something else?