AN ACCIDENT TO THE SECOND CUTTER.
The gentle breeze from the southward enabled the fleet to proceed without delay up the fjord to the town of Christiansand; and, as there was very little ship’s duty to be done under such circumstances, the students had an excellent opportunity to examine the islands and the main shore. On board the ship and her two consorts the boys swarmed like bees in the rigging, eagerly watching every new object that was presented to their view. As nautical young gentlemen, they criticised the Norwegian boats and vessels that sailed on the bay, comparing them with those of their own country. The two yachts, which were not restrained by any insurance restrictions, stood boldly up the fjord, following closely in the wake of the two schooners.
The course of the vessels up the fjord was through an archipelago, or “garden of rocks,” as it is styled in the Norwegian language. The rocky hills in the vicinity were of a reddish color, with a few fir trees upon them. The country was certainly very picturesque, but the students did not regard it as a very desirable place of residence. The fleet passed between the Island of Dybing and the light on Odderö,and came to anchor in the western harbor. For half an hour the several crews were occupied in furling sails, squaring yards, hauling taut the running rigging, and putting everything in order on board.
The accommodation ladder of the ship, which was a regular flight of stairs, had hardly been rigged before a white barge, pulled by four men, came alongside. The oarsmen were dressed in blue uniform, and wore tarpaulin hats, upon which was painted the word “Grace,” indicating the yacht to which they belonged. The bowman fastened his boat-hook to the steps, and the rest of the crew tossed their oars in man-of-war style. In the stern-sheets, whose seats were cushioned with red velvet plush, were three persons, all of whom were old friends of our readers. Captain Paul Kendall, the owner and commander of the Grace, though he is a few inches taller and a few pounds heavier than when we last saw him, was hardly changed in his appearance. Even his side whiskers and mustache did not sensibly alter his looks, for his bright eye and his pleasant smile were still the key to his expression. The Grace carried the American yacht flag, and her commander wore the blue uniform of the club to which he belonged.
Three years before, Paul Kendall had experienced a heavy loss in the death of his mother. She had inherited a very large fortune, which, however, was held in trust for her son, until he reached his majority. At the age of twenty-one, therefore, Paul came to an inheritance bequeathed by his grandfather, which made him amillionnaire. His fortune had been carefully invested by the trustees, and now all he had to do wasto collect and spend his income, of which there was a considerable accumulation when he attained his majority. Paul was a young man of high moral and religious principle. He had never spent a dollar in dissipation of any kind, and though he knew the world, he was as child-like and innocent as when he was an infant.
His tastes were decidedly nautical, and the first large expenditure from his ample wealth was in the building of the yacht Grace, which was now anchored near the Young America. She was a beautiful craft in every respect, constructed as strong as wood and iron could make her. As her cabin was to be Paul’s home during a portion of the year, it was fitted up with every appliance of comfort, convenience, and luxury. It contained a piano, a large library, and every available means of amusement for the hours of a long passage. At the age of twenty-one, Paul was more mature in experience and knowledge than many young men at twenty-five; and hardly had he been placed in possession of his inheritance than he sailed for Europe, and, of course, hastened from Queenstown to Belfast, where Mr. Arbuckle, father of the lady who occupied the stern-sheets of the barge, resided. Six months later he was married to Grace, who still regarded him as “the apple of her eye.”
On his return to New York his yacht was finished, though too late in the season for use that year. Her first voyage in the spring was to Brockway, which was the residence of Mr. Lowington, and the headquarters of the Academy Squadron. Learning that his old friend the principal was about to sail forEurope with his charge, he promptly decided to accompany him, and the Grace was one of the fleet that crossed the Atlantic in April.
Mrs. Kendall was dressed in a plain travelling suit. She was taller and more mature than when she went down the Rhine with the Young Americans, but she was not less beautiful and interesting.
If Fortune had been very kind to Paul Kendall, she had not been so constant to all who formerly sailed in the Young America, and who had then basked in her sunny smile. The third person in the stern-sheets of the barge was Mr. Augustus Pelham. He was a fine-looking fellow, with a heavy mustache, dressed like his commander, in the uniform of the yacht club. By one of those disasters common in American mercantile experience, Pelham’s father had suddenly been hurled from apparent affluence to real poverty. Being well advanced in years, he could do nothing better for himself and his family than to accept a situation as secretary of an insurance company, which afforded him a salary only sufficient to enable him to live in comfort. Augustus had completed his course in the Academy ship when the change of circumstances compelled him to abandon all luxurious habits, and work for his own living. This was by no means a calamity to him, any more than to other young men. Doubtless it was annoying to have his allowance of pocket money suddenly stopped, and to find himself face to face with one of the sternest realities of life. His training in the Academy ship had been a blessing to him, for it had reformed his life, and elevated his tastes above the low level of dissipation. It had madea new man of him, besides preparing him for a useful calling. He was competent, so far as nautical skill and knowledge were concerned, to command any vessel to any part of the world, though he lacked the necessary experience in the management of a miscellaneous crew, and in the transaction of business. He was ready to accept a situation as chief or second mate of a ship, when he happened to meet Paul Kendall, and was immediately engaged as chief officer of the Grace, at a salary of one hundred dollars a month. Another ex-student of the ship, Bennington, upon whose father fickle Fortune had not continued to smile, had been appointed second officer. Pelham had shipped the crew of the Grace, and no better set of men ever trod a deck.
The barge came up to the steps, and Paul and Pelham assisted Mrs. Kendall out of the boat, and the three went upon the deck of the ship. Mr. Lowington, who had not seen them, except at a distance, since the fleet sailed from Brockway harbor, gave them a warm greeting, shaking hands heartily with the lady first, and then with her companions.
“I am glad to see you looking so well, Mrs. Kendall,” said the principal.
“I have enjoyed myself every moment of the voyage, and have never been sick a single hour,” she replied.
“We have had a fine passage, and there was no excuse for an old salt like you to be sick,” laughed the principal.
“But I think we shall go on shore, and stay at a hotel a few days, just for a change,” added Paul.
“That’s a good plan; of course you will see more of the town and the people, than if you remain in your yacht.”
“I am sure I like the cabin of the yacht better than any hotel I ever visited,” laughed Mrs. Kendall.
“But a change will do you good, my dear,” suggested Paul.
“What did you pick up last evening, when you hove to, Mr. Lowington?”
“We picked up a young Norwegian, about sixteen years old,” answered the principal, detailing the circumstances under which Ole had been taken on board.
“Where is he now?” asked Paul, looking about him to obtain a sight of the stranger.
“We clothed and fed him, and had become quite interested in him; but just as the pilot came alongside we missed him. I have had the ship searched for him, but we have not been able to find him, though he must be concealed somewhere on board.”
“That’s strange!” exclaimed Mrs. Kendall, glancing at her husband.
“Perhaps not very strange,” continued the principal. “The boy refused to tell us how he came in an open boat, half full of water, and out of sight of land. Probably he has run away from his friends, and has concealed himself to avoid being recognized by the pilot, or other Norwegian people who may come on board. I judged by his appearance that he had some reason for running away from his master or his friends, for he was only half clothed, in the filthiest rags that ever covered a human being.”
“I should like a Norwegian in my yacht, to act as interpreter for us,” added Paul.
“I intended to keep him for that purpose myself, if I could ascertain who his friends were, and make an arrangement with them, for I will not encourage any boy in running away from his employers. Very likely we shall find him again in the course of the day.”
“Very well, sir; if you want him, I will look out for some one on shore,” added Paul. “At what time do you pipe to lecture, Mr. Lowington?”
“Not before to-morrow forenoon, at two bells.”
“I want to hear the lecture.”
“So do I,” laughed Mrs. Kendall. “I think it is a capital idea to have a professor tell us all about a country before we attempt to see it. I used to read about the Norsemen, but I have forgotten all about them now, and I want to refresh my memory.”
“I wish all our boys had the same view of the matter,” said Mr. Lowington.
“We will come on board before nine to-morrow morning, sir,” added Paul, as he handed his lady up the steps over the rail.
Descending to the boat, the three oarsmen shoved off, and pulled for the shore, where they landed. The boat had not reached the land, before another barge, the counterpart of the first, and similarly manned, left the Feodora, and pulled alongside the ship. Mr. Robert Shuffles, the owner and commander of the second yacht, assisted his wife up the ladder to the deck of the ship, where they were cordially received by the principal. The yacht Feodora was only six months older than the Grace, for which she had served as the model. Shuffles had not come into possession of any inheritance yet, but his father wasas liberal as he was wealthy, and gave his son an annual allowance, which enabled him to marry and keep a yacht. He and Paul had been intimate friends since they were graduated from the Academy ship, and they had made their plans in concert. He had married Lady Feodora a year before, and she had now dropped her aristocratic title, and become a republican lady. Like her husband, she had acquired nautical tastes, and was even more enthusiastic than he in anticipating the pleasures of a yacht cruise up the Baltic, and up the Mediterranean. Shuffles had not been so fortunate as Paul in finding needy graduates of the Academy to officer his yacht, and a fat old shipmaster served as first officer in the Feodora, while the second mate was a young tar, not yet of age. Having paid their respects to the principal, the young couple returned to the boat, and followed Paul to the hotel on shore.
“That’s the way to go about Europe,” said Sanford, who was sitting on the rail with several of his shipmates.
“What’s the way?” asked Stockwell.
“Why, as Kendall and Shuffles do it—in a yacht, with no Latin and geometry to bother their heads, and no decks to wash down on a cold morning.”
“That’s so; but those fellows were the lambs of the squadron, we are told,” laughed Stockwell. “They didn’t have black marks; didn’t pick upon the professors, and didn’t run away from the ship.”
“What has all that to do with yachting?” asked Rodman.
“They were good boys, and therefore they haveyachts as their reward,” replied Stockwell, laughing.
“Pelham was as good as Shuffles, but he has no yacht, and has to work on a salary for his living.”
“He has the fun of it all the same, and Paul Kendall will not overwork him. But I haven’t a word to say against them. They were all good fellows, if they were the ship’s lambs.”
“All the second cutters!” shouted the boatswain’s mate, after his pipe had sounded through the ship.
“That means us,” said Sanford. “Take your money and pea-jackets, fellows. Something may turn up before we come back.”
“Ay, ay,” replied Stockwell. “Pass the word to all our fellows.”
In a few moments the fourth cutters appeared in the waist, with pea-jackets on their arms, and touched their caps to De Forrest, the fourth lieutenant, who appeared as the officer detailed to go in the boat, which now, as formally, was called the professors’ barge, because it was generally appropriated to the use of the instructors. It was pulled by eight oarsmen, and Sanford was the coxswain. The party who had been considering the plan for an independent excursion on shore without incurring the perils and penalties of running away, were the crew of the second cutter. The fact of being together so much in the boat, had united them so that they acted and plotted in concert.
“What are you going to do with those pea-jackets?” asked De Forrest, when he saw their extra clothing.
“It’s rather chilly up here in the evening, and we thought we might want them, while we were waiting,” replied Sanford.
“I don’t think it is very cold, and as to the evening, the sun don’t set till about eight o’clock,” added the officer, as he went aft to the professors who were going on shore, and reported that the boat was ready; for it had already been lowered into the water, and made fast to the swinging boom.
Her crew went over the side, and seated themselves in the cutter.
“Ready!” said the coxswain, as the stern-sheets of the barge ranged alongside the little stage at the foot of the ladder. “Up oars!”
Up went the eight oars to a perpendicular position, where they were held till the boat should be ready to go.
“I wonder where Ole is,” said Sanford.
“Sh!” whispered Stockwell, who pulled the bow oar, shaking his head with energy.
“What do you mean?” demanded the coxswain, in a low tone, for he was very much mystified by the pantomime of the bow oarsman.
“Don’t say a word.”
“Where is he?” persisted Sanford, who was not willing to have a secret kept from him even for a moment.
Stockwell pointed into the bottom of the boat, and then looked up at the sky, with an affectation of cunning, while the rest of the crew smiled as though they were in possession of the secret. Sanford said no more, and joined the bowman in studying the aspectof the sky. Ole was in the boat to act as guide and interpreter, and if they chose to leave without running away, everything seemed to be favorable to the enterprise. Mr. Mapps and Dr. Winstock presently descended the steps, and seated themselves in the boat, followed by De Forrest.
“All ready, coxswain,” said the latter.
“Ready! Let fall!” said Sanford, as he shoved off the stern of the cutter. “Give way—together!”
The well-trained crew bent to their oars, and the boat shot away from the ship towards the shore. Mr. Mapps was going to the town to obtain some additional material for his lecture the following morning, and the surgeon intended to call on Paul Kendall and lady at the hotel.
“This is a very picturesque town, doctor,” said Mr. Mapps, as he gazed at the high, rocky steeps which surround Christiansand.
“Very; and I am rather sorry we are not to see more of the environs of the place,” replied the surgeon. “I understand we sail to-morrow night.”
“I dare say the students will see enough of Norway before they leave it.”
“We want to go into the interior,” said De Forrest. “There is fine fishing in the streams of Norway.”
“Very likely Mr. Lowington will take you into the interior from Christiania,” suggested Dr. Winstock.
“I don’t exactly see how it is possible to do so,” added Mr. Mapps. “The only conveyance of the country is the cariole, which seats but one person—perhaps two boys; and our squadron has nearlytwo hundred students. I am afraid there are not carioles enough in Christiania to carry the whole of them.”
“I think it’s too bad we can’t have a trial at the salmon,” pouted De Forrest.
“Perhaps, if you waited till July, you might catch them,” replied Mr. Mapps.
“We should be contented with trout, then.”
“I have no doubt Mr. Lowington will do the best he can for you,” said Dr. Winstock, as the boat neared the pier.
“In, bows!” called the coxswain; and the two bowmen tossed and boated their oars, taking their stations in the fore-sheets, one of them with the boat-hook in his hand. “Way enough!” added Sanford; and the rest of the crew tossed their oars, and then dropped them upon the thwarts, with a precision which seemed to astonish the group of Norwegians on the wharf, who were observing them.
The two gentlemen landed, and walked up to the town together, leaving the barge to wait for them.
“Part of you may go on shore for half an hour, if you wish, and walk about,” said De Forrest to his crew.
“I don’t care about going ashore,” replied Sanford.
“Nor I either,” added Stockwell; and so they all said, very much to the astonishment of the fourth lieutenant, who naturally supposed that boys who had been at sea about four weeks would like to stretch their legs on the solid land for a short time.
“Don’t any of you wish to go on shore?” he inquired.
“Not yet,” replied Sanford. “If you wish to take a walk, I will push off from the shore, and wait till you return,” said Sanford, very respectfully.
“What’s up? You won’t go on shore, and you wish me to do so!” exclaimed the suspicious officer.
“Nothing, sir,” protested Sanford. “We don’t intend to run away. We think that is played out.”
“If you wanted to do so in this desolate country, I would let you do it, if I were the principal. But you are up to some trick, I know.”
“What trick, sir?” demanded the coxswain, innocently.
“I don’t know, but it is your next move,” replied De Forrest, as he seated himself, and seemed confident of his ability to check any mischief which might be in the minds of his crew. “Shove off, bowman! Up oars! Let fall! Give way together!”
The oarsmen, rather vexed at the turn of events, obeyed the several orders, and the boat was again cutting the still waters of the fjord. All around them were rocks, with several large and small islands in sight. In various places on the rocks were affixed iron rings, to which vessels could make fast in warping out of the bay when the wind was light or foul. A portion of the rock to which they were attached was whitewashed, so that the rings could easily be found, even in the night. To one of these rings, on a small island near Odderö, which commanded a full view of the landing-place, De Forrest directed the coxswain to steer the boat.
“Make fast to that ring,” said the officer.
“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the bowman.
“Perhaps you would like to land here,” added the lieutenant, in a jeering tone, as though he felt that he had checkmated his crew in any evil purpose they entertained. “Whether you do or not, I think I shall stretch my legs on these rocks.”
De Forrest leaped from thwart to thwart, and then over the bow upon the island, as though he felt nothing but contempt for the power of the boat’s crew to do mischief. He walked up the rough rocks to the summit of the islet, where he paused, and for the first time glanced at his companions, whom he suspected of harboring some design against the peace and dignity of the ship. As he did so, he discovered a steamer, which had just passed through the narrow opening between Odderö and the main land, and whose course lay close to the point of the island where the cutter was moored. He saw that the swash of the steamer was likely to throw the boat on the rocks, and grind her planking upon the sharp points of the island.
“In the boat!” he shouted, lustily. “Shove off!”
Sanford saw the danger which the lieutenant wished to avert, and promptly obeyed the orders.
“Shove off, Stockwell!” he promptly shouted. “Up oars! Stern, all! Give way!”
Stockwell gave a tremendously hard push when he shoved off, and the cutter shot far out upon the still waters; in fact, so far that she was forced directly into the way of the approaching steamer.
The Accident to the Second Cutter.Page57.
“Oars!” yelled the coxswain furiously, when he saw that he had overdone the matter. “Hold water! Go ahead! Give way!”
The crew, even in this moment of deadly peril,—for it looked as though, in another instant, they would all be under the wheels of the steamer,—obeyed every command with their wonted precision. But it was a second too late to take the back track. If the boat had continued to back as at first, she would probably have escaped, for the steamer put her helm a-starboard a little, in order to favor her manœuvre. When a collision seemed inevitable, the steamer’s bell was rung to stop her, and then to back her.
She struck the cutter; but as her progress had been powerfully checked, the blow did not carry her under, though it stove in the side of the boat. The water poured in through the broken broadside, and the crew sprang for their lives. They leaped upon the guys and bob-stays of the steamer, and were hauled in by the people on the bow.
“Come out of there, Ole,” said Stockwell, as he pulled the boat’s sail from the extended form of the waif, who was concealed in the bottom of the boat.
Ole lost not a moment in following the example of his companions. As the steamer’s headway had now been entirely checked, Stockwell held the wrecked cutter in her position, while Rodman passed the pea-jackets up to the forecastle of the steamer. Having done this, they abandoned the boat, and followed the example of their companions. No one was drowned,or even wet above his knees, for the steamer had struck the boat just hard enough to stave in her side, without carrying her under.
The Norwegians hooked up the boat’s painter, and taking it in tow, proceeded on her course; for the captain—as interpreted by Ole—declared that his boat carried the mail, and he could not wait for anything.
NORWAY IN THE PAST AND THE PRESENT.
“Clear away the first cutter!” shouted the first lieutenant of the Young America, from whose deck the catastrophe to the second cutter had been observed.
“All the first cutters!” piped the boatswain, with an energy inspired by the stirring occasion.
“That was very carelessly done,” said Mr. Lowington, whose attention had been called to the scene.
“The steamer ran within a couple of rods of the island,” added Captain Cumberland. “I saw the fourth lieutenant order the boat to shove off; I suppose he did it to prevent the swash of the steamer from grinding the cutter on the rocks.”
“What is he doing among those rocks?” asked the principal.
“I don’t know, sir. He landed Mr. Mapps and the doctor, and was ordered to wait for them. I don’t see why he went over to that island.”
The second lieutenant was directed to take charge of the first cutter; Peaks, the adult boatswain, and Bitts, the carpenter, were ordered to go also, to render any assistance which might be required in succoring the stove boat. The cutter shoved off, her twelveoars struck the water together, and the crew gave way with an energy which caused their oars to bend like twigs, while the barge leaped through the water as though it was some monster of the deep goaded to his utmost to escape the wrath of a more potent pursuer.
“With a will, my lads!” shouted the coxswain. “Steady! Keep the stroke, but use your muscle!”
“There’s a job for you, Bitts,” said the boatswain, as the Norwegian took the second cutter in tow.
“And a heavy job it will be, too,” replied Bitts. “I wonder there is anything left of the boat.”
“The steamer stopped her wheels, and backed some time before she struck, or there would not have been much left of the boat, or her crew,” added Peaks. “Thank God, the boys are all safe.”
“It’s a lucky escape for them.”
“So it was; and we needn’t say anything about the boat.”
“The steamer is going ahead,” said the carpenter.
“No matter for that, so long as the boys are all safe,” replied Peaks.
The people in the steamer seemed to take no notice of the first cutter, appearing not to understand that it had come out for the wrecked crew. But as the boat pulled towards her, she cast off the cutter in tow.
“Steamer, ahoy!” shouted Norwood, the second lieutenant, as he saw the cutter cast adrift.
She made no reply, but hoisted a flag, on which appeared the word “Post,” with something else which none in the first cutter could understand.
“She’s a mail boat,” said the boatswain; “and I suppose she intends to say she is in a hurry.”
“Does she mean to carry off the crew of that boat?” demanded the second lieutenant, not a little vexed at the conduct of the Norwegians.
“She will not carry them far,” suggested Dunlap, the coxswain.
“She may take them to Bergen.”
“I think not, sir. If she is a mail steamer, she stops at all the ports on the coast. I don’t think she will carry them far. Very likely they will be sent back, on some other steamer, before night,” added Dunlap, who had studied the coast of Norway more carefully than the lieutenant in command.
“First cutter, ahoy!” shouted De Forrest, on the island.
“On shore!” replied Norwood. “We can’t catch the steamer—that is certain; steer for the island, coxswain.”
The first cutter ran up to the rocky island, and as soon as the bow touched the rocks, De Forrest leaped into the fore-sheets. He was nervous and excited, feeling, perhaps, that he had failed in his duty, and was, therefore, responsible for the accident to the second cutter. From feeling that he had circumvented his crew in carrying out some unexplained trick, he realized that he had led them into a trap, from which they had narrowly escaped with their lives.
“What are you doing on this island, De Forrest?” asked Norwood, as the discomfited officer took his place in the stern-sheets, and the boat shoved off again.
The second lieutenant declared that he had come overto the island to prevent his crew from running away, or from carrying out some trick whose existence he suspected, but whose nature he could not comprehend.
“Sanford wanted I should go ashore at the town, and offered to look out for the crew while I did so,” he continued. “Of course I wouldn’t leave my crew; but I told them that half of them might go on shore and take a walk. None of them wanted to go, and then I was satisfied they were up to something. I went on the island for the sole purpose of watching them. I wanted to know what their plan was.”
“Well, what did you discover?”
“Nothing at all. I saw that steamer coming, and I ordered Sanford to shove off, so that her swash should not damage the boat.”
“I don’t believe they intended to play any trick,” added Norwood. “You are too suspicious, De Forrest.”
“Perhaps I am; but fellows that have been at sea for a month are rather glad of a chance to stretch their legs on shore. They wouldn’t do so, when I told them they might; and I don’t believe such a thing was ever heard of before. Besides, they all looked as though they were up to something, and just as though they had a big secret in their heads.”
“Perhaps you were right, but I don’t believe you were,” said Norwood, too bluntly for good manners, and too bluntly for the harmony of the officers’ mess.
“I suppose I am responsible for the smashing of the second cutter, but I was trying to do my duty,” replied De Forrest, vexed at the implied censure of his superior.
“If you had staid at the pier this could not have happened.”
“But something else might have happened; and if my crew had run away, I should have been blamed just as much,” growled the second lieutenant.
“You were too sharp for your own good—that is all. But I don’t mean to blame you, De Forrest,” said Norwood, with a patronizing smile. “Perhaps I should have done the same thing if I had been in your place.”
“Stand by to lay on your oars!” shouted the coxswain, as the boat approached the water-logged second cutter. “Oars!”
The crew stopped pulling, and levelled their oars.
“In, bows! Stand by the boat-hooks!” continued the coxswain; and the two forward oarsmen grasped the boat-hooks, and took their station in the fore-sheets. “Hold water.” And the ten oars dropped into the water as one, checking the onward progress of the cutter.
The bowmen fastened to the second cutter, and recovering her painter, passed it astern to the coxswain, who made it fast to a ring on the stern-board. By this time the steamer, with the luckless crew of the stove boat, had disappeared behind an island. The first cutter pulled back to the ship, and De Forrest immediately reported to the first lieutenant, and explained his conduct in presence of the principal and the captain. He detailed his reasons for supposing his crew intended to run away, or to play some trick upon him.
“I think you have done all that a careful and vigilantofficer could, De Forrest; and so far as I can see, you are free from blame,” replied Mr. Lowington.
The fourth lieutenant glanced at Norwood.
“Just what I said,” added the latter, in a low tone.
“If you made any mistake, it was in leaving your boat at the island,” continued the principal.
“Just exactly my sentiments,” whispered Norwood. “I don’t blame the fourth lieutenant, but I shouldn’t have done just as he did.”
“Where is that steamer bound?” asked Mr. Lowington of the pilot, who had not yet left the ship, and was really waiting to be invited to supper.
“To Christiania, sir,” replied the pilot, who, like all of his class on the coast of Norway, spoke a little English.
“Where does she stop next?”
“At Lillesand.”
“How far is that?”
“About two miles.”
“Two miles! Why, it is farther than that to the sea,” exclaimed Mr. Lowington.
“He means Norwegian miles,” suggested one of the instructors, who was listening with interest to the conversation.
“True; I did not think of that. A Norwegian mile is about seven English miles. It is fourteen miles, then, to Lillesand.”
With the assistance of Professor Badois, who acted as interpreter, the pilot explained that the steamer which had just left was several hours late, and would go that night to Frederiksværn, where the steamers from Bergen and Christiania made connections withthe boat for Gottenburg and Copenhagen. The Christiania steamer would reach Christiansand the next evening, and the boys who had been carried away could return in her.
“Why did she carry them off? It would not have taken five minutes to land them,” added the principal.
“She was very late, and her passengers for Gottenburg and Copenhagen would lose the steamer at Frederiksværn if she does not arrive in season,” the pilot explained through Professor Badois.
But Mr. Lowington was so grateful that the crew of the second cutter had all escaped with their lives, that he was not disposed to be very critical over the conduct of the Norwegian steamer. The boys were safe, and would return the next night at farthest. The accident was talked about, during the rest of the day, on board of all the vessels of the squadron. The officers and seamen on board of the ship had witnessed the accident, and had seen all the crew of the second cutter go over the bows of the steamer. They had not observed, in the excitement of the moment, that ten, instead of nine, had left the wrecked boat; and as Ole Amundsen was dressed precisely like the crew, his presence in the cutter was not even suspected.
The first cutter was sent to the town for Dr. Winstock and Mr. Mapps, and in an hour or two the excitement had entirely subsided. The routine of the ship went on as before, and as there was little work to be done, the absentees were hardly missed.
At half past eight the next morning, the signal, “All hands, attend lecture,” was flying on board of theYoung America. The boats from the Josephine and the Tritonia came alongside the ship, bringing all the officers and crews of those vessels. Paul Kendall and lady, and their friends, were brought off from the shore; Shuffles and his wife also appeared, and a further delegation from each of the yachts asked admission to the ship to hear the lecture, or rather to attend the exercise in geography and history, for the occasion was even less formal than on the first cruise of the ship. The steerage was crowded, after the boatswain had piped the call, and Mr. Mapps was doubtless duly flattered by the number of his audience. On the foremast hung a large map of Sweden and Norway.
“If you please, young gentlemen, we will begin with Scandinavia,” said the professor, taking his place near the foremast, with the pointer in his hand. “What was Scandinavia?”
“The ancient name of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark,” replied one of the students.
“The barbarous tribes from the northern part of Europe at different times invaded the southern sections, conquering various other tribes, occupying their territory, and thus mingling with all the people from whom originated the present nations of Europe. Thus, in remote ages, the Scandinavians, among others, by their conquests and their emigration, have contributed largely to the modern elements of society. With this explanation we will look at Scandinavia in detail, beginning with Norway. Between what degrees of latitude does it lie?”
“Between forty and ninety,” replied an enthusiastic youth.
“True—quite right; and a safe answer. If you had said between one and ninety, the answer would have been just as good for any other country as for Norway. I would like to have the jacket fit a little closer.”
“Between fifty-eight and seventy-one, north,” answered one who was better posted.
“Exactly right; about the same latitude as Greenland, and our newly-acquired Alaska. Our ship is anchored in the same parallel as the northern part of Labrador, and one degree south of the southern point of Greenland. But it is not as ‘cold as Greenland, here,’ the temperature being some twelve degrees milder, because the warm waters of the Gulf Stream are discharged upon its shores. You know its boundaries. It is one thousand and eighty miles from the Naze to the North Cape, and varies from forty to two hundred and seventy miles in width. How many square miles has it?”
“One hundred and twenty-three thousand square miles.”
“Or a little larger than the six New England States, New York, and New Jersey united. The country is mountainous, and abounds in picturesque scenery. Precipices, cataracts, and rushing torrents are very numerous in the central and northern parts. The Vöringfos is a waterfall, and the Rjukanfos, near the central part, are cataracts of about nine hundred feet perpendicular descent; but of course the volume of water is not very large. The highest mountains are between eight and nine thousand feet high. Norway has an abundance of rivers, but none of them arevery long. The coast, as you have seen, is fringed with islands, which, with the numerous indentations, form a vast number of bays, straits, channels, and sounds, which are calledfjordshere. One of the principal of these is Christiania Fjord, which you will ascend in a few days. The country also abounds in lakes, which, as in most mountainous regions, are very narrow, being simply the widenings of the rivers. The largest of these is Miösen Lake, fifty-five miles long, and from one to twelve wide.
“The soil is not very good, and the Norwegians are not progressive farmers. They cling to the methods of their sires, and modern improvements find but little favor among them. The winter is long, and the summer short; but by a provision of provident nature, the crops mature more rapidly than in some of the southern climes, as grain has been reaped six weeks after it was sowed. The principal crops are the grains; but the supply is not equal to the demand, and considerable importations are received from Denmark and Russia. In the south the farmers devote themselves to stock-raising, while in the north the Lapps derive nearly all the comforts of life from the reindeer, the care of which is their chief industry.
“The extensive product of pine and fir have created a vast trade in lumber, which constitutes three fourths of the exports to the United Kingdom, and a considerable portion of the inhabitants in the wooded districts are employed in cutting, sawing, and sending to market the wealth of the forests. Next in importance to this are the fisheries, which yield about five million dollars a year. Cod, haddock, and herringare cured for exportation, and are an important source of revenue. Besides these, the roe of the cod is sent to France, Italy, and Spain, as bait for sardines. Norway supplies London with lobsters. Norway iron, as well as Swedish, is very celebrated; but the mines are poorly managed, as are those of copper and silver.
“The kingdom of Norway is divided into eighteen provinces, which are called Amts. Its population, in 1865, was one million seven hundred thousand, showing an increase of about two hundred thousand in ten years. The government is a constitutional monarchy.”
“I thought it was a part of Sweden,” said one of the students.
“Not at all. The King of Sweden is also the King of Norway; but each country has its own independent and separate government. Each has its own legislature, makes its own laws, and raises and expends its own revenues. The king exercises his functions as ruler over both kingdoms through a council of state, composed of an equal number of Swedes and Norwegians, whose duty it is to advise the sovereign, and, in accordance with a peculiar feature of monarchy, to take the responsibility when any blunder is made; for “the king can do no wrong.” If anything is wrong, some one else did it. Having the same king, who rules over each nation separately, is the only connection between Norway and Sweden. The former pays about one hundred and twenty thousand dollars of his civil list, and he is obliged to reside in Norway during a small portion of each year.
“The constitution of Norway is one of the most democratic in Europe. The legislative and part of the executive power is vested in the Storthing, which means the ‘great court,’ composed of the representatives of the people. The king has but little power, though he has a limited veto upon the acts passed by the legislative body. He can create no order of nobility, or grant any titles or dignities. The members of the Storthing are elected indirectly by the people; and when they assemble, they divide themselves into two houses, corresponding to our Senate and House of Representatives. All acts must pass both chambers, and in case of disagreement, the two bodies come together, and discuss the subject.
“The religion of Norway is Lutheran, and few of any other sect are to be found; formerly, no other was tolerated, but now religious freedom prevails, though Jesuits and monks of any order are sternly excluded. The clergy, who are generally very well educated, have an average income of about a thousand dollars a year, and I think are better paid than even in our own country. The people are well instructed, and one who cannot read and write is seldom found.
“The early history of Norway is that of most of the countries of Europe—a powerful chief subjugated his neighbors, and united the tribes into a nation. Harold the Fair-haired, whose father had conquered the southern part of the country, fell in love with Gyda, the daughter of a petty king, who refused to wed him till he had absolute sway over the entire country. Pleased with the lady’s spirit, he vowed never to cut or comb his hair till all Norway lay athis feet. It appears that he eventually had occasion for his barber’s services, and wedded the lady. This was in the ninth century; and the victories of Harold drove many of the Norsemen, or Northmen, to seek their fortunes in other lands. They discovered and colonized Greenland and Iceland, and even established settlements on the continental portion of North America. Traces of them have been found on the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and some claim that they founded settlements farther south. They figure largely in the early history of England and Scotland, and even carried their piratical arms into Russia, Flanders, France, Italy, and other territories.
“A son of Harold, who had been educated in England, brought Christianity into Norway; but, it was three centuries before the new faith had established itself. Like the Hindoos, Greeks, and Romans, the ancient Scandinavians had a mythology, upon which their religion was based. They believed that in the beginning all was chaos, in which was a fountain that sent forth twelve rivers. These streams flowed so far from their source that the waters froze, and the ice, defying the modern law of nature, sank till the fathomless deep was filled up. Far south of the world of mist, in which this miracle was wrought, was a world of fire and light, whence proceeded a hot wind that melted the ice, from the drops of which came the ice-giant, whose name was Ymir, and from whom proceeded a race of ice-giants. From the wedding of the ice and heat of the two extremes of the world came a cow, from which ran four streams of milk, the food of the ice-giants. While this wonderful beast waslicking the salt stones in the ice, which formed her diet, a quantity of human hair grew out of them, and the next day a human head was developed, and then appeared a whole man. Bör, the son of this man, married a daughter of one of the ice-giants, and they had three children, the oldest of whom was Odin, who became the rulers of heaven and earth, because they were all good, while the children of Ymir, the ice-giant, were evil. Then, as now, the Good and the Evil were at war. Finally the ice-giant was slain, and being thrown into space, the world was created from his body; his blood forming the sea and the rivers; his flesh the earth; his hair the grass; his bones the rocks; his teeth and broken jaws the stones; and of his head the heavens, at the four ends of which were placed four dwarfs, called North, South, East, and West. Of this giant’s brains, thrown into the air, they formed the clouds, while of the sparks from the land of fire were made the stars.
“As the sons of Bör, who, you must remember, were the gods of heaven and earth, were walking on the shore of the sea, they discovered two blocks, whereof they created a man and a woman. Odin gave them life and souls, while his brothers endowed them with other human faculties and powers. Odin was the Jupiter, the chief, of the northern gods. He is the god of song and of war, and was the inventor of the Runic characters, or alphabet. He was the ruler of Valhalla, the home of heroes slain in battle. There is much more that is curious and interesting in the mythology of the Scandinavians, which I must ask you to read for yourselves.
“Olaf II. propagated Christianity with fire and sword. He demolished the temples of paganism, and founded Trondhjem, or Drontheim, as it is called on our maps. His successor, St. Olaf, followed his example, till his cruelty excited a rebellion, and Canute the Great, of Denmark, landing in Norway, was elected king. Olaf fled into Sweden, where he organized an army, and attempted to recover his throne; but he was defeated and slain in a battle near Trondhjem. His body was found, a few years later, in a perfect state of preservation, which was regarded as a miracle, and Olaf was canonized as a saint. His remains are said to have wrought many miracles, and up to the time of the Reformation, thousands of pilgrims annually visited his shrine at Trondhjem. Even in London churches were dedicated to this saint.
“Canute gave Norway to his son Sweyn, who, upon the death of his father, was dispossessed of the throne by Magnus I., the son of St. Olaf. He was succeeded by Harold III., a great warrior, who founded Osloe, now Christiania. After Olaf III. and Magnus III. came Sigurd, who, in 1107, made a pilgrimage of four years to Jerusalem, with a fleet of sixty vessels, and distinguished himself in the holy wars. His death was followed by civil dissensions, until Hako IV. obtained the throne. He lost his life in an attempt to retain the Hebrides Islands, claimed by Scotland. Then war with Denmark, the monopoly of trade by the Hanse towns, and a fearful plague, which depopulated whole sections, produced a decline in the national prosperity of Norway. Hako VI., who died in 1380, had married the daughter of the King of Denmark,and the crown of Norway descended to his son, Olaf III., of Denmark, in whom the sovereignties of Norway and Denmark were united. Olaf was succeeded by his mother Margaret, celebrated in history as ‘the Semiramis of the North.’ She conquered Sweden, and annexed it to her own dominions. By the ‘Union of Calmar,’ signed by the principal nobles and prelates of the three Scandinavian kingdoms, the three crowns were united in one person, the subjects of each to have equal rights. This compact was disregarded, and Norway was hopelessly oppressed by the ruler. The Union, however, continued till 1623; but Norway was subject to Denmark till 1814.
“When the allied powers of Europe, which were engaged in putting down the first Napoleon, rearranged the map of Europe, the destiny of Norway was changed. Russia wanted Finland, and she offered Norway in compensation for it to Sweden, with the further condition that Bernadotte should join the allies. He accepted the terms, and the King of Denmark was compelled, by force of arms, to cede Norway to Sweden. The Norwegians would not submit to the change, and declared their independence. Prince Christian, of Denmark, who was then governor general of Norway, called a convention of the people at Eidsvold, and a new constitution was framed, and the prince elected King of Norway. Bernadotte invaded Norway with a Swedish army, while the allies blockaded the coast. Resistance was hopeless, and as Sweden offered favorable terms, Christian abdicated, and an arrangement was immediately effected. The constitution was accepted by the king, and Norwaybecame an independent nation, united to Sweden under one king. Bernadotte became King of Sweden and Norway under the title of Charles XIV., John. He refused the Norwegians a separate national flag; but when he attempted to alter the constitution to suit his own views, the Storthing resolutely and successfully resisted his interference. This body abolished titles of nobility—an act which the king vetoed; but three successive Storthings passed the law, and thus, by the constitution, made it valid in spite of the veto. The Norwegians were not to be intimidated even by the appearance of a military force, and have ever been jealous to the last degree of their rights and privileges as a nation.
“Bernadotte was succeeded by his son Oscar I., who gave the Norwegians a separate national flag; and he flattered the vanity of the people by allowing himself to be styled the ‘King of Norway and Sweden’ in all public acts relating to Norway, instead of ‘Sweden and Norway.’ In 1859, Oscar was succeeded by his son Charles XV., who is now the King of Sweden and Norway. In the history of Denmark and Sweden, more will be said of this kingdom.
“In French, Norway isNorvège; in German,Norwegen; in Spanish,Noruega; andNorgein the Scandinavian languages. Now, I dare say you would like to visit the shore.”
The professor closed his remarks, and the several boatswains piped away their crews.
MR. CLYDE BLACKLOCK AND MOTHER.
Belonging to the squadron were fourteen boats, ranging from the twelve-oar barge down to the four-oar cutter. In the waters of Brockway harbor, rowing had been the principal exercise of the students, though the daily evolutions in seamanship were well calculated to develop the muscles and harden the frame. They had been carefully trained in the art, and, enjoying the amusement which it afforded, they were apt scholars. As the safety of the squadron and the saving of life at sea might often depend upon the skill with which the boats were handled, the principal devoted a great deal of attention to this branch of nautical education. To give an additional zest to the exercise, he had occasionally offered prizes at the boat-races which the students were encouraged to pull; and the first cutter was now in possession of a beautiful silk flag, won by the power of the crew in rowing.
Every boy in the squadron was a swimmer. In the summer season this accomplishment had been taught as an art, an hour being devoted to the lesson every day, if the weather was suitable. Cleats, the adult boatswain of the Josephine, was the “professor” ofthe art, having been selected for the responsible position on account of his remarkable skill as a swimmer. The boys were trained in diving, floating, swimming under water, and taught to perform various evolutions. Not alone in the tranquil bay were they educated to the life of the fishes, but also in the surf, and among the great waves. They were taught to get into a boat from the water in a heavy sea. A worn-out old longboat had done duty during the preceding summer as a wreck, in order to familiarize the students with the possibilities of their future experience. It was so prepared that a portion of its planking could be suddenly knocked out, and the boat almost instantly filled with water; and the problem was, to meet this emergency in the best manner. Other boats were at hand in case of a real accident, or if any naturally timid fellow lost his presence of mind. While the “wreck,” as the practice boat was called, was moving along over the waves, pulled by half a dozen boys, Cleats, without warning or notice of his intention, opened the aperture near her keel. Sometimes she was loaded with stones, so that she went to the bottom like a rock, though this part of the programme was always carried out on a beach, where the receding tide would enable the professor to recover the boat. The crew were then to save themselves by swimming ashore, or to another boat. Sometimes, also, the “wreck” was loaded with broken spars, pieces of board, and bits of rope; and the problem was for the crew to construct a raft in the water, often in a rough sea. All these exercises, and many others, were heartily enjoyed by the boys, and a ringing cheer always announced the safety of a crew, either on the shore, in a boat, or on the raft.
Many persons, and even those who are tolerable swimmers, have been drowned simply by the loss of their presence of mind. The dashing of the waves, or the great distance of the land or other place of safety, intimidates them, and they are unable to use their powers. But the students of the squadron were gradually and carefully accustomed to the water, so that they could swim a reasonable distance without wearing themselves out, could rest their limbs by floating, and were taught to avail themselves of any expedient to secure their safety. If a boat was stove on the rocks in a surf, or was run down by a vessel, the fact of being in the water did not frighten them out of their wits, for they had been trained to feel quite at home, as in their native element. They were actually drilled to confront danger in every imaginable form. But a gentle and timid boy was not pitched into the water, even after he had learned to swim. His constitutional shrinking was slowly and skilfully overcome, so that even the most delicate—though but few such ever found their way into the ranks of the squadron—took to the water as a pastime. Of course the degree of proficiency in the art of swimming, and of the acquired ability to meet danger in the water, differed very widely in different boys; but all were accustomed to the waves, and, in a measure, to leading the life of a duck or a fish.
The crews of the several boats piped over the side, and took their places, the rest of the students being distributed in the barges and cutters, till only the adult officers remained in the ship. Each one, as it was loaded, pulled off, and took its station in the order inwhich the boat squadron usually moved. The commodore’s barge and the ship’s first cutter, each twelve oars, led the van, while the other boats came in four ranks of three each. All the boats carried the American flag at the stern, and each one had its number at the bow. All the Young America’s boats had their numbers on a white, the Josephine’s on a green, and the Tritonia’s on a blue flag.
The tactics of the boat squadron were many and various, which had been adopted more to give interest to the exercise than for any inherent utility. These movements were regulated by signals from the commodore’s barge. Mr. Lowington had decided to make an excursion among the islands in the Fjord before dinner, and visit the town in the afternoon. A pilot was put in the commodore’s barge, and Captain Cumberland, as acting flag officer, was in command of the squadron. The principal and Professor Badois were passengers in his barge.
The cutters were formed in their usual array, and the two boats from the yachts brought up the rear. The signal officer, who was a quartermaster from the ship, at the order of the captain, elevated the white flag crossed with red, with which all the signals were made. The coxswains of the several boats could see this flag, while the oarsmen could not, being back to the barge, and not allowed to look behind them.
“Oars!” said each coxswain, as soon as the signal appeared.
At this command the several crews, who had been laying on their oars, prepared for the stroke. Thesignal officer dropped the flag to the port side of the barge.
“Give way!” added each coxswain; and the boat squadron moved off.
In order to keep the lines full, the larger quarter boat of the Grace had been borrowed and manned, and now took the place of the second cutter, which had been stove, and upon which the three carpenters of the squadron were now at work, making the necessary repairs. The fleet made a splendid appearance, with the flags flying, and with the officers and crews in their best uniforms. The people on the shore, and on board of the various vessels in the harbor, gathered to see the brilliant array. The crew of an English steamer cheered lustily, and the lady passengers waved their handkerchiefs. Suddenly the signal on the commodore’s barge went up again.
“Stand by to toss!” said the several coxswains, as the fleet of boats came abreast of the steamer, which was the Orlando, bound from Hull to Christiania.
The signal went down to the port side.
“Toss!” continued the coxswains, only loud enough to be heard by the crews, for they had been taught that the unnecessary screaming of orders makes an officer seem ridiculous, and injures the effect of the manœuvre.
At the word every oar went up, and was held perpendicularly in the air with the left hand. A bugle blast from the barge at this moment brought every student to his feet, with his right hand to his cap.
“One!” said the coxswain of each boat, at a dip of the signal flag.
A rousing cheer, accompanied by a swing of the cap, followed, and was twice repeated, making up the complement of the three cheers, in return for the salutations of the steamer’s people. Her crew returned the compliment in like manner. At another blast of the bugle, the crews were seated with their oars still up. Again the signal in the barge was elevated.
“Stand by!” said the coxswains, which was only a warning to be ready.
The flag dropped to port.
“Let fall!” added the coxswain; and all the oars dropped into the water together, while the flag was again elevated. “Give way!” and the stroke was resumed.
The passengers of the Orlando clapped their hands vigorously, as they witnessed the perfection of the movements. The fleet proceeded up the bay towards the west front of the town, where a considerable collection of people had assembled to witness the novel parade. The barge led the way to the extreme west of the bay, where the signal flag was again exhibited, and then swung first to the port and then to the starboard. This was the signal for coming into single line, and the coxswain of each boat gave the orders necessary to bring it into range. It was so managed that each boat came into the new order as it turned to pass in front of the town; so that they proceeded in a single line before the people, but not more than twenty feet apart. Once more the signal flag appeared, with a double motion upwards.
“Stand by to lay on your oars!” said the coxswains. “Oars!” they continued, as the flag swung down to starboard. “Hold water!”
These orders soon brought the boats to a stand. The signal flag moved in a horizontal circle.
“Pull, starboard; back, port. Give way!” continued the coxswains; and the effect of this evolution was to turn the boats as on a pivot. “Oars!” and the crew ceased pulling, with their oars all on a level, and the blades feathered.
The boats had been turned half round, and each coxswain aligned his own by the barge on the right. In this position three cheers were given in compliment to the people on the shore, though the Norwegians seemed to be too dull and heavy to comprehend the nature of the movement. The boats swung again, and continued on their way, in single line, through the narrow passage between Odderö and the main land. Under the direction of the native pilot, the barge led the way among the islands, affording the students an opportunity to see the shores. When the fleet came into the broad channel, the order was resumed, as at first, and after various manœuvres, it was dismissed, each boat returning to the vessel to which it belonged.
The appearance of the fleet, including the two beautiful yachts, and the evolutions of the boats, had created a decided sensation on board of the Orlando, which was crowded with passengers, most of them tourists on their way to the interior of Norway. The crews of the several vessels piped to dinner as soon as they returned from the excursion; but the meal was hardly finished before visitors from the steamer began to arrive, and the boatmen in the harbor made a good harvest on the occasion. Among those who came tothe ship was an elegantly dressed lady, with her son and daughter, attended by a servant man in livery. Mrs. Garberry Blacklock was duly presented to the principal by one of the gentlemen who had introduced himself. She was evidently a very fine lady; for she was “distinguished” in her manners as well as in her dress. And her son, Clyde Blacklock, was as evidently a very fine young gentleman, though he was only fourteen years of age. It is doubtful whether Miss Celia Blacklock could be regarded as a very fine young lady, for she appeared to be very pretty, and very modest and retiring, with but a very moderate estimate of her own importance.
For the tenth time Mr. Lowington briefly explained the nature of the institution over which he presided; and the fine lady listened with languishingennui.
“But it is a very rough life for young gentlemen,” suggested Mrs. Blacklock. “I should fancy they would become very,veryrude.”
“Not necessarily,” replied the principal. “We intend that the students shall behave like gentlemen, and we think the discipline of the ship has a tendency to promote good manners.”
“They must live like sailors, and sailors are very,veryrude.”
“Not necessarily, madam. There is nothing in the occupation itself that—”
“But I wish to know what the fellows do,” interposed Mr. Clyde Blacklock.
“There is nothing in the occupation itself that begets rudeness,” added Mr. Lowington, giving no attention to the young gentleman, who had so impolitelybroken in upon the conversation of his elders. “I see no reason why a young man cannot be a gentleman in a ship as well as on shore.”
“I dare say you have sailors to do the dirty work.”
“No, madam; our students do all the work.”
“Do they put their own fingers into the pitch and the tar?” inquired the lady, with a curl of the lip which indicated her horror.
“Certainly; but we think pitch and tar are not half so defiling as evil thoughts and bad manners.”
“They are very,verydisagreeable. The odor of tar and pitch is intolerable.”
“We do not find it so, for—”
“I say, I wish to know what the fellows do.”
“We are accustomed to the odor of them,” continued the principal. “To some people the scent of musk, and even otto of roses, is not pleasant; and, for my part, I rather enjoy that of tar and pitch.”
“That is very,verysingular. But Clyde desires to know what the young gentlemen do,” added the lady, glancing at her son, behind whom stood the man in livery, as though he were the boy’s exclusive property.
“They have a regular routine of study,” replied Mr. Lowington, addressing the lady, and declining even to glance at the original inquirer, for the rudeness of Mr. Clyde in interrupting the conversation seemed to merit a rebuke. “They attend to the studies usually pursued in the highest class of academies, including the modern languages and navigation, the latter being a speciality in the course.”
“I don’t care what they study,” said Clyde. “What do they do in the ship?”
“We prepare boys for college, and beyond that pursue a regular college course, so far as our facilities will permit. Our students have the advantage of travel; for, in the present cruise, we shall visit all the principal nations of Europe.”
“What do they do in the ship?”
“Clyde desires to know what the boys do in the ship,” added the lady.
“They learn good manners, for the first thing, madam. There are fifteen officers in this vessel, and nine in each of the others. They are all students, who take their rank according to their merit. The best scholar in each is the captain, and so on.”
“Does the captain manage the ship?” asked Clyde.
“Certainly.”
“I should like to be the captain,” exclaimed the young gentleman.
“Do you think you could manage the ship?” asked his mother, with a smile which expressed the pride she felt in the towering ambition of her son.
“I could, if any fellow could.”
“Clyde is very fond of the sea; indeed, he worries me sadly by his adventurous spirit,” said his mother.
“I think it would do him good to go to sea,” added the principal, rather dryly.
“The students made a beautiful appearance in their boats to-day,” continued Mrs. Blacklock. “It was really very,verywonderful.”
“They handle the boats very well indeed, but their skill was only acquired by long and careful training. As we have a considerable number of visitors on board, madam, we will show you a little seamanship.Captain Cumberland,” he added, turning to the young commander, who had been making himself agreeable to Miss Celia Blacklock.
The captain asked the young lady to excuse him, and stepping up to the principal, bowed gracefully, and raised his cap.
“He’s a regular swell,” said Clyde to his man.
“He’s a young gentleman as is highly polished, which these naval officers is generally,” replied Jeems.
Mr. Lowington directed the captain to call all hands, and go through the evolutions of loosing and furling, for the gratification of the guests of the ship. Captain Cumberland bowed and raised his cap again as he retired, and the principal hoped that Clyde would take a lesson in good manners from him.
“Will you walk to the quarter-deck, Miss Blacklock,” said the captain, touching his cap to the young lady, to whom he had been formally introduced by the principal. “We are going to loose and furl, and you can see better there than here.”
“With pleasure,” replied Miss Celia. “But what did you say you were going to do?”
“Loose and furl the sails,” replied the captain, as he conducted the fair miss to the quarter-deck, where they were followed by Mr. Lowington and the rest of the party.
“Mr. Judson,” said the commander.
“Here, sir,” replied the first lieutenant.