Meanwhile the Captain stood on the brow of the hill, whirling round his tarpaulin hat with the long blue ribbons flying wildly in the wind. When the children came nearer, they heard the old man calling loudly to them, “Come, my hearties, you are slow to-day. Be lively, or we’ll lose the chance.”
“What chance?” asked William, when they had come up with him.
“The wind, the wind,—why, don’t you see there’s a spankin’ breeze? I was afraid we’d lose our sail, so I came to hurry you up.”
“Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted both the boys together; and without further ado the Captain hurried the little people along with him down through the woods to the water.
The old man had been down there before, and had everything in readiness. The little yacht was lying close beside the little wharf. “Look sharp now, and be lively,” exclaimed the Captain as he helped them one by one aboard; and then he got in himself, and shoved the yacht off from the landing, and with the assistance of a singular-looking boy, whom the Captain called “Main Brace,” he spread the sails, and the lively craft was soon skimming over the waters, carrying as lively a party as ever set out on an afternoon frolic. “Jolly” was the only word which seemed at all to express the children’s pleasure, and if the boys said “it’s jolly” once, they must have said it fifty times at least; while little Alice exhibited her excitement by jumping from one side of the boat to the other, stopping now and then to lean over the side and watch the little waves gurgling past them, sometimes dipping her delicate hands into the water, and screaming with delight when the spray flew over her.
The party were seated (when seated at all) in what is called the “stern sheets,” that is, on the seat in the open space behind the cabin heretofore described,—the good-natured and kindly Captain in the midst of them, firmly holding the helm or tiller of his boat, and guiding it with steady hand wherever he wished it to go, cracking a pleasant joke now and then, and enjoying in all the fulness of his big, warm heart the joyous delight of his young guests. And he was in no hurry to stop the sport, for he ran on clear across the harbor, and then said he would “’bout ship,” and put back again.
“What’s ’bout ship?” inquired William.
“That’s going about on the other tack,” replied the Captain.
“What’s going about on the other tack?” asked William, as wise as he was before.
“I’ll show you,” said the Captain. “Now see here: first I give the proper order, as if somebody else was giving it to me, and I was the man at the wheel: ‘Hard-a-lee,’ do you observe;—now look, I put the helm down as far as I can jam it,—there;—look now, how that turns the boat and brings her up into the wind,—you see the sails begin to shiver,—the wind is blowing right in your faces now;—now we have turned nearly round; the boat, you see, has come up on an even keel,—level, you know;—now look out sharp for your heads there,—the boom is going to jibe over to the other side;—there, don’t you see we’ve turned round,—that house over there near the beach that was almost ahead of us is now behind us. There goes the boom,—bang! There fills the sail, see it bulging out,—the jib, you see, shakes a little yet,—but there she goes now filled out like the other; and now you see I’ve got the helm back where I had it before, in the middle, ‘steady,’ you know, and there goes the Alice off on the starboard tack, and an easy bowline back towards the Mariner’s Rest again. Wasn’t that nicely done?”