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"She tipped pretty badly then."
"That was nothing. She will go over ever so much farther than that without putting her scuppers under. She had not got her bearings then.
Now hoist the jib, Monkey," shouted Bobtail.
"Hold on, Captain Bobtail!" said one of the gentlemen. "Don't you think you have sail enough on? It blows fresher than I thought it did."
"It's just a whole sail breeze. She will carry her jib without winking, and go along as steady as a lady on the sidewalk," laughed Bobtail, who concluded that his pa.s.sengers were not accustomed to boats, especially when the wind blew.
"We are going ten miles an hour now," suggested the second gentleman.
"Not seven, sir. We will try the jib; and if you don't like it, we can take it in again."
Monkey had hoisted the jib, and it was flapping and pounding furiously,--making a noise which was rather trying to the nerves of the gentlemen. The skipper seized the lee sheet, and luffing up the boat, flattened down the sail to its proper place, for he was obliged to run a short distance to the northward in order to clear some vessels at anchor. Having pa.s.sed these, the sheets were started, and the Skylark went off before the wind. The sea was not heavy so far in sh.o.r.e, but it was exciting sailing, and the pa.s.sengers kept silence, watching the swift motion of the yacht. In a short time they were accustomed to the situation, and began to talk, though in rather subdued tones at first.
They seemed to regard the skipper with a feeling of awe, and realized that their lives were in his keeping. They knew little or nothing about a boat, and did not feel quite at home with such lively sailing. The confident manner of the young skipper, his perfect command of the situation, his pleasant speech and laugh, rea.s.sured them. When the yacht had pa.s.sed North-east Point the course was changed to the north-east, and the sheets hauled in, so that the Skylark had the wind a little abaft the beam. This was her best point in sailing, and she soon exhibited her best speed. She heeled over so that her scuppers often went under. Bobtail kept her just far enough from the land to get the full force of the wind, but not far enough to be shaken up by the waves, which beat heavily on La Salle Island, east of them.
"This is lively--isn't it, Howe?" said one of the gentlemen.
"It is the smartest sailing I ever saw," replied Mr. Howe. "You seem to know what you are about, Captain Bobtail."
"I think I do, sir," answered the skipper. "I have been in a boat ever since I was born, and I can't remember the time when I couldn't sail one."
"I would give a hundred dollar bill if I could sail a boat as well as you can," said Mr. Jones.
"So would I," added Mr. Howe.
"I will tell you all I know about it for nothing," laughed the skipper.
"I don't pretend to know much, but somehow I always get along. Won't you take the helm, sir, and try your hand at it?"
"No, not now; I should rather begin when it is not quite so lively,"
replied Mr. Jones.
"It is easy enough. She will almost steer herself. All you have to do is to run for that point of land, about eight miles ahead."
"Eight miles--is it?" asked Mr. Howe, consulting his watch.
"About eight from here. It is just ten from the point astern of us."
"It is exactly twelve o'clock now. Let us see how long it takes us to go eight miles."
"I can tell you now, sir," laughed Bobtail. "It will take us just forty-eight minutes."
"Good, my lad! I will time you. If it takes forty-nine, you are no prophet."
"I don't expect to tell within a minute; but I guess I'll steer myself, if you are going to whittle me down as close as that."
Bobtail began to be very exact in his steering and sailing. He started the sheets a couple of inches, and watched the point ahead very closely.
Ten miles an hour was fast sailing for a boat of the size of the Skylark; but he knew she would do it if she was well handled. The two gentlemen kept looking at their watches, and as the distance diminished they declared she would make the point in half an hour; but distances are very delusive on the water, and when half an hour had elapsed, they thought that five minutes more would bring the boat up with the headland. Bobtail watched his sails, and "steered small." In forty minutes he found that he should make the point a little too soon, and he let out the jib-sheet a little, so that the sail did not draw full.
"Forty-five minutes!" exclaimed Mr. Jones, "and we are off the point."
"But we are not up with it, sir," replied Bobtail, hauling in the jib-sheet again.
"You are cutting it fine, Captain Bobtail," added Mr. Howe.
"Of course I meant abreast of the point, and when it lies just abeam, we shall be up with it. Here we are, sir!"
"Forty-eight minutes to a second!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Jones, as he showed his watch to the skipper.
"Lower the jib, Monkey!" shouted Bobtail.
"I did not think you could hit it so closely as that," said Mr. Howe.
"Well, sir, I couldn't if you hadn't told me the time every few minutes," laughed Bobtail. "I bamboozled you."
"How?"
"I should have made the point in three quarters of an hour if I hadn't let out the jib-sheet. I lost the three minutes on purpose."
"But why do you lower the jib here?" asked Mr. Jones.
"We will try the fish here. Ready with the anchor, Monkey!"
"All ready," replied the Darwinian.
Bobtail threw the yacht up into the wind, and as soon as she had lost her headway, he gave the order to let go the anchor. Monkey had got out the fis.h.i.+ng gear and opened the clams on the pa.s.sage up, so that the pa.s.sengers threw over their lines immediately. They did not have a bite for some time, and Monkey threw over a line. It had hardly run out before he had a fish, and pulled in a good-sized cod.
"How's that?" said Mr. Howe. "I haven't had a nibble yet."
"Perhaps you don't fish right, sir," suggested Monkey, with one of his apish grins, as he took the gentleman's line, and found that the sinker was not within twenty feet of the bottom. "That's what's the matter, sir. Drop the line down till the sinker touches bottom; then pull up about a fathom."
The two pa.s.sengers, following these instructions, began to pull in cod and haddock very rapidly, and Monkey had all he could do to bait their hooks, and take off their fish.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE DISCHARGE.
"Look here, Howe!" exclaimed Mr. Jones, tugging with all his might at his line; "I'm pulling up the bottom of Pen.o.bscot Bay, as true as you live!"
"Don't do that, sir," shouted Bobtail, merrily. "We shall get aground if you do."
"What is it?" asked Mr. Howe.
"I don't know," replied Mr. Jones, still hauling away at his line, to which some immense dead weight seemed to be attached. "It must be a whale."