“No, it isn’t, Nat,” he said coolly. “We could heel over twice as much as that without danger. I’ll show you. Take another pull here.”
“No, no, uncle,” I cried, “I’m satisfied; I believe you.”
“Take hold of the rope and haul,” he shouted; and I obeyed him, with the boat heeling over so terribly that I felt sure that the water would rush over the side.
He laughed as he made fast the rope, and bade me go to the rudder, for I had taken tight hold of the side of the boat.
There was something so quick and decided about Uncle Dick’s way of ordering anyone that I never thought of disobeying him, and I crept to the rudder, while he took his place beside me as the boat danced up and down upon what I, who had never seen the open sea, thought frightful waves.
“Now, Nat,” he said, “you see this rope I have here.”
“Yes, uncle.”
“This is the sheet, as it is called, of the sail, and it runs through that block to make it easier for me to give or take as I want. Now, my boy, here is your first lesson in managing a sailing-boat whether the wind is rough, or as gentle as a breath. Never fasten your sheet, but hold it loose in your hand.”
“Why, uncle?” I said, as it seemed to me that it would have saved all the trouble of holding it if it had been tied to the side.
“That’s why,” he said, as just then the wind increased, so that I clung once more to the side, for the sail was blown so hard that the boat would have gone over enough for the water to rush in if Uncle Dick had not let the rope run swiftly through his hands, making the sail quite loose, and the boat became upright once more.