“Didn’t you say you ought to be on the ground?” said Dick. “Of course you mean the bottom of the boat.”
“Get out!” said Josh. “The fishing-ground’s five fathom under water.”
“Then how can you tell when you get there?”
“Bearin’s,” growled Josh.
Dick looked helplessly at Will, while Josh muttered to himself about “gashly ignorance.”
“What are bearings?” said Dick at last.
“I’ll show you,” said Will, “when we get out there by and by. We have to guide ourselves, you know, out at sea by—”
“Compass. I know,” cried Dick.
“Ah! that’s out of sight of land,” said Will quietly. “Along shore we sail by bearings that we take—hills and points and trees, so as to lay the boat where we like.”
“But I don’t see how you can,” cried Dick.