“I don’t mean only in a military way, for that is but one of many kinds of service needed; but, if you follow the lines given in your scout law, you cannot fail to be useful wherever you are.”
After a few more words with the Chairman, the Commandant, accompanied by Mr. Miller, entered the launch and waved a good-by to the Bright Wing and its crew.
All stood at attention until the launch had shoved off. They were then dismissed and went below for dinner.
CHAPTER XVII
Storm-bound at Provincetown
The entrance to Little Harbor at Portsmouth, between Great Island and the breakwater, was so narrow that it would have been impossible to get out to sea against the tide unless a westerly wind had been blowing. As it was, the wind was light and easterly, so that the Bright Wing was obliged to adapt herself to the tide, which began to run out as early as three in the morning. At four o’clock, therefore, all hands were called to the windlass, and, as soon as she was free, the ship slipped out past the breakwater and the fort, toward the rising sun, with her sails slightly shaking in the breeze.
The course was about south by east as far as Thatcher’s Island; and, from there, about south-half-east for Race Point on the tip end of the Cape,—the whole distance being roughly seventy miles. So long as the wind held easterly, or at least did not veer around in a southerly direction, it would be possible for them to sail the first thirty miles or so on one long leg, fairly close hauled; but, from Thatcher’s Island on, they would be able to slack off their sheets.
The plan of the cruise included a short stay at Provincetown, to give Mr. Jackson a chance to get ashore, and from there around the Cape to Martha’s Vineyard; then through the Cape Cod Canal to home waters at Hull.
As the Bright Wing slipped along through the water at a moderate speed, everything on board was going like clockwork. There was no seasickness to interfere with the routine instruction, and the light easterly breeze made it cool and pleasant, although it was very hot ashore. At quarters it was announced that Randall Turner, “B. M.” of the second division, first section, had left the ship at Portsmouth the night before, in response to a telegram announcing his mother’s serious illness, and that Ronald Jones, the coxswain of the same section, had been appointed “B. M.” in Turner’s place. At dinner time they were just about opposite the twin lights on Thatcher’s Island; and, when the new watch came on deck after dinner, they noticed that the wind had shifted to the north of east, and that the sky was beginning to be overcast. The breeze, also, was freshening, and, as the sheets were let out to catch more of the wind, the Bright Wing began running rather faster, with the breeze on her port quarter. The mate and Mr. Wentworth were walking up and down, sniffing the air.
“Guess we’ll make Provincetown in short order, if this wind holds,” said the mate; then, looking up at the clouds, he added, “I shouldn’t wonder if it thickened a little before to-morrow morning, and I notice the glass has gone down since we left Portsmouth.”
This was the first time some of the younger boys had sailed in a strong fair wind. The motion, of course, seemed far less than if they had been obliged to beat up against it, and there was little or no discomfort, in spite of the fact that the wind was gradually increasing and the weather thickening.