[Top]CHAPTERIX.THE VOLUNTEER HELMSMAN AND HIS MOVEMENTS.The wind was strong from the south-west; and, after passing the breakwater, the Goldwing struck into a smart little sea for a fresh-water pond. The motion was so strange, not to say exciting, to the passengers from the interior, that they kept very still for a time. The water slopped over the bow, and occasionally a bucketful pounded pretty hard on the forward deck.Some of the boys were evidently a little startled, though they did not like to show that they were moved by this new experience. Others tried to look and act as though they had been on the waves all the days of their lives.“It’s all right, fellows,” said Dory, when about half a barrel of water slapped on the boards forward. “We intend to keep on the top of the water.”“Does a boat always do like that, and take thewater in?” asked Ben Ludlow, who had never seen a sheet of water bigger than a pond a mile in diameter.“No: sometimes the boat don’t throw the water at all, but sometimes it does ten times as bad as now. I have been out in this boat when one hand had to keep baling all the time. We call this a quiet sail.”“Of course it’s a quiet sail,” added Oscar Chester, who had once been on a steamer. “There isn’t any thing to be afraid of.”“I can stand it as long as the rest of you,” replied Ben Ludlow, who thought the last speaker had cast an imputation upon his courage. “When Dory is frightened, it will be time enough for the rest of us to get scared.”“I had no idea that a boat made such a fuss in going along,” said Dave Windsor.“It don’t always; but we are sailing against the wind as near as we can go,” Dory explained. “I suppose all you fellows are going to learn how to sail a boat, and you might as well begin now.”The skipper of the Goldwing proceeded to show in what manner the mouth of Beaver River was to be reached. When he had gone far enough toweather Willsborough Point, he could lay his course to Thompson’s Point; and from there he must beat about dead to windward. Most of the new pupils were interested, and asked a great many questions. Dory explained every thing very minutely; and it was not his fault if they did not understand, at least the theory of sailing a boat against the wind.“But I can’t see what makes the boat go ahead when the wind is against her,” suggested John Brattle. “I can understand how the wind pushes the boat along when it is blowing from behind her, but not when it comes from the way it does now.”“It is the friction of the wind against the sails. Did you ever see a ferry-boat cross a river by the force of the current?”John Brattle happened to be the only one of the party who had seen a current-boat. He had crossed the Androscoggin River, in Maine, in a stage on such a craft.“If the ferry-boat were headed square across the river, the current would not move her any way but down the river,” added Dory.“There was a big wire rope stretched across theriver, which did not let her go down the stream,” replied John Brattle. “Then the boat was turned to an angle half-way between the direction of the current and the wire rope.”“Precisely as our sails are set at an angle with the course of the boat. In this position the friction of the water against the boat forces it across the river.”“But you have no wire rope.”“We have a centre-board instead.” Dory pointed out the centre-board of the Goldwing, and showed how it worked. “This boat would slide off sideways if it were not for that.”“But we have to go a great deal farther when beating,” said Ned Bellows.“Of course we do,” replied Dory. “Sometimes we have to go two miles to make one when the wind is dead ahead.”“Captain Gildrock said it was twenty miles from Burlington to Beech Hill. Must we go forty miles to get there?” asked Ben Ludlow.“Not at all: the wind isn’t dead ahead. Here we are, just north of Willsborough Point. I am coming about now. Look out for your heads when the boom goes over.”Dory put the helm down, and all the sails began to flap and bang. But in a moment the Goldwing took the wind on the starboard tack, the sails went over, and the schooner began to gather headway on her new course.“That’s what we call tacking,” said the skipper. “We shall go about eleven miles on this tack.”“I say, Dory, let me steer her a while now,” added Oscar Chester, rising from his seat, and moving aft.“Keep your seat!” replied the skipper rather sharply. “You mustn’t move about in the boat.”“But I want to steer her,” persisted Oscar, resuming his seat.“Did you ever steer a boat?” asked Dory.“I never steered a sailboat; but I can do it as well as you can,” added the new pupil. “I have seen just how it is done. When you want the boat to go to the right, you put the stick in your hand to the left.”“I don’t believe in running any risks in a boat, and I must keep the helm myself,” answered Dory. “There is wind enough to upset the boat if you don’t know how to handle her.”“But I do know how to handle her. I have kept my eyes open, and I know all about it. It don’t take me a month to learn any thing.”“If we were alone I would let you try it, just to enable you to see how easy it is to be mistaken,” said Dory, laughing.“It’s nothing to steer a boat! You needn’t make such a big thing of it.”“Well, it is a big thing!” exclaimed Bolingbroke. “I thought I knew something about it yesterday, and I got overboard in two hundred and fifty feet of water; and that is deep enough to drown the whole of you. I should have finished my mortal career then if Dory had not picked me up.”None of the other boys said any thing, though it was plain to the skipper that they did not want Oscar to steer the boat. Dory began to understand what sort of a fellow Oscar was; and it was evident to him that he was the bully of the crowd, and that he had already set up, and perhaps established, his superiority. He was older and larger than Dory, though three or four of the new pupils were heavier than he.“You all seem to be afraid of a boat,” continuedOscar with a palpable sneer. “I am not afraid of her.”“Can you swim a mile?” asked Dory quietly.“I can’t swim a rod. I don’t intend to tip her over.”“Perhaps the rest of the fellows can swim.”They all protested that they could not.“If this boat should fill with water, she would go to the bottom like a pound of lead,” continued Dory. “The water is over two hundred feet deep out here. It is four hundred off Thompson’s Point. But, if you can’t swim, you would drown just as quick in six feet of water as in six hundred.”“I don’t care for your bugbears: I’m not afraid of them. I want to steer this boat, and I’m going to do it!” added Oscar stoutly.“I don’t believe you will steer her on this trip,” replied Dory in a quiet tone. “But I will give you a chance to steer all you want to when we are alone.”“Do you take me for a little chicken, Dory, that can be led around by you?” demanded Oscar, rising from his place.“Keep your seat!” added the skipper sharply.“No, I won’t keep my seat! I will let you know that you are not my boss.”“In a boat all hands must obey the skipper, as I shall obey you, Oscar Chester, when you are the skipper of any boat I am in; and that is just what Captain Gildrock told you all to do just before we sailed.”“I don’t obey a little snipper-snapper of a fellow like you, Dory. I never was bossed by any boy, and I don’t begin now,” blustered Oscar, moving towards the stern of the boat.Dory saw that there was likely to be trouble. He had correctly read the character of Chester; and he was not anxious, while responsible for the safety of the boat and her passengers, to have any difficulty with him. He was not afraid of him, bold and stout as Oscar appeared to be.Putting the helm up a little, he allowed the schooner to fall off until the strong wind heeled the boat over, so that the water was nearly even with the top of the wash-board. This was decidedly startling to some of the boys, who cried out in their alarm.The Goldwing went over so far that Oscar was not at all secure in his footing; and he came verynear tumbling over the heads of the fellows on the lee side, for they had bent forward as the schooner heeled over.“Sit down! Keep your seat, Oscar Chester!” shouted Dory. But it was no part of the rebel’s nature to obey an order of any kind after what had happened. The inside of the boat was rather crowded, except on each side of the tiller, where the space had been reserved for the helmsman.Making a lively spring for the open space on the lee side of the rudder-head, he brought up on the seat, just as the skipper put the helm down to bring the boat back to her former course. The Goldwing was jumping on the waves; and the rebel did not fetch up just as he intended, for the motion of the boat interfered with his calculations. He grasped the main-sheet, and finally came down on the bit of deck astern of the standing-room.Oscar evidently wanted to prove that he “always came down-stairs that way;” for he let go the sheet, and tried to stand up straight. His pride was still in the ascendency. Dory had put the helm over so far that the sails were spilled, and this set the schooner to pitching. Oscar hadhardly let go the sheet, when he lost his balance, and pitched into the lake, disappearing beneath the surface. Dory tried to catch him before he went over, but failed to do so.“He has fallen over into the water!” screamed some of the boys, terribly frightened by this time.“He will be drowned!” yelled others.The only one who had not entirely lost his head was the skipper. Dory was as cool as though he had been up to his neck in ice-water. He had been in all sorts of scrapes, though he had never encountered a bully under such unfavorable circumstances. He had put the helm down before, and the Goldwing had lost her headway. Of course she would not answer her helm when she had lost her steerage-way.Oscar Chester came to the top of the water, and all the boys shouted. Dory did not even look at him, for he was busy with the boat. He filled away, and came about as soon as he got steerage-way. Oscar was floundering about in the most unreasonable manner, with a better chance of being drowned than of being saved.
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The wind was strong from the south-west; and, after passing the breakwater, the Goldwing struck into a smart little sea for a fresh-water pond. The motion was so strange, not to say exciting, to the passengers from the interior, that they kept very still for a time. The water slopped over the bow, and occasionally a bucketful pounded pretty hard on the forward deck.
Some of the boys were evidently a little startled, though they did not like to show that they were moved by this new experience. Others tried to look and act as though they had been on the waves all the days of their lives.
“It’s all right, fellows,” said Dory, when about half a barrel of water slapped on the boards forward. “We intend to keep on the top of the water.”
“Does a boat always do like that, and take thewater in?” asked Ben Ludlow, who had never seen a sheet of water bigger than a pond a mile in diameter.
“No: sometimes the boat don’t throw the water at all, but sometimes it does ten times as bad as now. I have been out in this boat when one hand had to keep baling all the time. We call this a quiet sail.”
“Of course it’s a quiet sail,” added Oscar Chester, who had once been on a steamer. “There isn’t any thing to be afraid of.”
“I can stand it as long as the rest of you,” replied Ben Ludlow, who thought the last speaker had cast an imputation upon his courage. “When Dory is frightened, it will be time enough for the rest of us to get scared.”
“I had no idea that a boat made such a fuss in going along,” said Dave Windsor.
“It don’t always; but we are sailing against the wind as near as we can go,” Dory explained. “I suppose all you fellows are going to learn how to sail a boat, and you might as well begin now.”
The skipper of the Goldwing proceeded to show in what manner the mouth of Beaver River was to be reached. When he had gone far enough toweather Willsborough Point, he could lay his course to Thompson’s Point; and from there he must beat about dead to windward. Most of the new pupils were interested, and asked a great many questions. Dory explained every thing very minutely; and it was not his fault if they did not understand, at least the theory of sailing a boat against the wind.
“But I can’t see what makes the boat go ahead when the wind is against her,” suggested John Brattle. “I can understand how the wind pushes the boat along when it is blowing from behind her, but not when it comes from the way it does now.”
“It is the friction of the wind against the sails. Did you ever see a ferry-boat cross a river by the force of the current?”
John Brattle happened to be the only one of the party who had seen a current-boat. He had crossed the Androscoggin River, in Maine, in a stage on such a craft.
“If the ferry-boat were headed square across the river, the current would not move her any way but down the river,” added Dory.
“There was a big wire rope stretched across theriver, which did not let her go down the stream,” replied John Brattle. “Then the boat was turned to an angle half-way between the direction of the current and the wire rope.”
“Precisely as our sails are set at an angle with the course of the boat. In this position the friction of the water against the boat forces it across the river.”
“But you have no wire rope.”
“We have a centre-board instead.” Dory pointed out the centre-board of the Goldwing, and showed how it worked. “This boat would slide off sideways if it were not for that.”
“But we have to go a great deal farther when beating,” said Ned Bellows.
“Of course we do,” replied Dory. “Sometimes we have to go two miles to make one when the wind is dead ahead.”
“Captain Gildrock said it was twenty miles from Burlington to Beech Hill. Must we go forty miles to get there?” asked Ben Ludlow.
“Not at all: the wind isn’t dead ahead. Here we are, just north of Willsborough Point. I am coming about now. Look out for your heads when the boom goes over.”
Dory put the helm down, and all the sails began to flap and bang. But in a moment the Goldwing took the wind on the starboard tack, the sails went over, and the schooner began to gather headway on her new course.
“That’s what we call tacking,” said the skipper. “We shall go about eleven miles on this tack.”
“I say, Dory, let me steer her a while now,” added Oscar Chester, rising from his seat, and moving aft.
“Keep your seat!” replied the skipper rather sharply. “You mustn’t move about in the boat.”
“But I want to steer her,” persisted Oscar, resuming his seat.
“Did you ever steer a boat?” asked Dory.
“I never steered a sailboat; but I can do it as well as you can,” added the new pupil. “I have seen just how it is done. When you want the boat to go to the right, you put the stick in your hand to the left.”
“I don’t believe in running any risks in a boat, and I must keep the helm myself,” answered Dory. “There is wind enough to upset the boat if you don’t know how to handle her.”
“But I do know how to handle her. I have kept my eyes open, and I know all about it. It don’t take me a month to learn any thing.”
“If we were alone I would let you try it, just to enable you to see how easy it is to be mistaken,” said Dory, laughing.
“It’s nothing to steer a boat! You needn’t make such a big thing of it.”
“Well, it is a big thing!” exclaimed Bolingbroke. “I thought I knew something about it yesterday, and I got overboard in two hundred and fifty feet of water; and that is deep enough to drown the whole of you. I should have finished my mortal career then if Dory had not picked me up.”
None of the other boys said any thing, though it was plain to the skipper that they did not want Oscar to steer the boat. Dory began to understand what sort of a fellow Oscar was; and it was evident to him that he was the bully of the crowd, and that he had already set up, and perhaps established, his superiority. He was older and larger than Dory, though three or four of the new pupils were heavier than he.
“You all seem to be afraid of a boat,” continuedOscar with a palpable sneer. “I am not afraid of her.”
“Can you swim a mile?” asked Dory quietly.
“I can’t swim a rod. I don’t intend to tip her over.”
“Perhaps the rest of the fellows can swim.”
They all protested that they could not.
“If this boat should fill with water, she would go to the bottom like a pound of lead,” continued Dory. “The water is over two hundred feet deep out here. It is four hundred off Thompson’s Point. But, if you can’t swim, you would drown just as quick in six feet of water as in six hundred.”
“I don’t care for your bugbears: I’m not afraid of them. I want to steer this boat, and I’m going to do it!” added Oscar stoutly.
“I don’t believe you will steer her on this trip,” replied Dory in a quiet tone. “But I will give you a chance to steer all you want to when we are alone.”
“Do you take me for a little chicken, Dory, that can be led around by you?” demanded Oscar, rising from his place.
“Keep your seat!” added the skipper sharply.
“No, I won’t keep my seat! I will let you know that you are not my boss.”
“In a boat all hands must obey the skipper, as I shall obey you, Oscar Chester, when you are the skipper of any boat I am in; and that is just what Captain Gildrock told you all to do just before we sailed.”
“I don’t obey a little snipper-snapper of a fellow like you, Dory. I never was bossed by any boy, and I don’t begin now,” blustered Oscar, moving towards the stern of the boat.
Dory saw that there was likely to be trouble. He had correctly read the character of Chester; and he was not anxious, while responsible for the safety of the boat and her passengers, to have any difficulty with him. He was not afraid of him, bold and stout as Oscar appeared to be.
Putting the helm up a little, he allowed the schooner to fall off until the strong wind heeled the boat over, so that the water was nearly even with the top of the wash-board. This was decidedly startling to some of the boys, who cried out in their alarm.
The Goldwing went over so far that Oscar was not at all secure in his footing; and he came verynear tumbling over the heads of the fellows on the lee side, for they had bent forward as the schooner heeled over.
“Sit down! Keep your seat, Oscar Chester!” shouted Dory. But it was no part of the rebel’s nature to obey an order of any kind after what had happened. The inside of the boat was rather crowded, except on each side of the tiller, where the space had been reserved for the helmsman.
Making a lively spring for the open space on the lee side of the rudder-head, he brought up on the seat, just as the skipper put the helm down to bring the boat back to her former course. The Goldwing was jumping on the waves; and the rebel did not fetch up just as he intended, for the motion of the boat interfered with his calculations. He grasped the main-sheet, and finally came down on the bit of deck astern of the standing-room.
Oscar evidently wanted to prove that he “always came down-stairs that way;” for he let go the sheet, and tried to stand up straight. His pride was still in the ascendency. Dory had put the helm over so far that the sails were spilled, and this set the schooner to pitching. Oscar hadhardly let go the sheet, when he lost his balance, and pitched into the lake, disappearing beneath the surface. Dory tried to catch him before he went over, but failed to do so.
“He has fallen over into the water!” screamed some of the boys, terribly frightened by this time.
“He will be drowned!” yelled others.
The only one who had not entirely lost his head was the skipper. Dory was as cool as though he had been up to his neck in ice-water. He had been in all sorts of scrapes, though he had never encountered a bully under such unfavorable circumstances. He had put the helm down before, and the Goldwing had lost her headway. Of course she would not answer her helm when she had lost her steerage-way.
Oscar Chester came to the top of the water, and all the boys shouted. Dory did not even look at him, for he was busy with the boat. He filled away, and came about as soon as he got steerage-way. Oscar was floundering about in the most unreasonable manner, with a better chance of being drowned than of being saved.