“Sure enough, sure enough,” said Mr. Gray. “I heard a whistle with a peculiar musical trill, but I did not know what it meant.”
“Well, sir,” said Jack, with a certain quiet dignity, “that is the salute that is always given to visiting officers when they come on board.”
Mr. Gray’s face lit up with a smile of intelligence. “Well, to tell the truth, I did feel something pleasant; and, now that I think of it, you boys were standing at attention at that very time when Mr. Miller came up and shook hands with me.”
“That’s right, sir,” said Jack. “We older Sea Scouts like these little bits of ceremony, especially because it’s just what happens when we are aboard the old Bright Wing, and brings back the taste of the salt water and the feel of the breeze on your face.”
“I see—I think I understand,” said the older man with a pleasant smile, and looking down the room, his smile broadened as he took in the bright and cheerful scene before him.
The Sea Scouts were all in their white jumpers and hats, for the idea of a ship’s deck of course included that of “out of doors”, and hats were only removed when something happened, like the arrival of a mother or sister.
The boys were grouped according to their sections (corresponding to patrols), in four little knots, each surrounding a table at which one of the boatswain’s mates, the scout master, or some other instructor, was presiding. They were sitting around their little tables like Land Scouts around a camp fire, listening and talking in low tones, so as not to interfere with what was going on in the other groups. One set of boys was tying knots and splicing bits of rope with a marlinspike made by themselves out of good hard wood. Dick had done so well with his knots that he had been put in charge of this group in the absence of the regular instructor. At another table a chart was spread out, and the parallel rules and dividers were traveling back and forth over the ocean amid contented murmurs and eager questions from the boys. In another corner the boatswain’s mate was putting his men through an informal examination in signalling. The whole scene, while very varied and animated, had the delightful atmosphere of combined activity and contentment.
Mr. Gray felt that every boy there was having a good time, and could not help catching the contagion of contented work. He made some further inquiries of Jack, and learned that each section rarely was kept on one subject more than twenty minutes or half an hour at a time, and that the instructors went from one group to another.
“You see, sir,” said Jack, “this is not intended to be like school, and we don’t want to keep a scout working at one thing until he gets tired of it. It is something like feeding your dog! He should have an appetite for more at the end of every meal.”
Mr. Gray sat musing quietly for a few minutes while his mind wandered back to his own boyhood. “I wonder,” thought he, “that there was nothing of this sort in existence when I was a boy!” Presently he turned to his companion with the question, “What is that green light in the right-hand corner and the red one on the opposite side?”