“Now up with the anchors, my hearties!” Ned cried cheerily, “and then stand by to make sail!”
All hands tried to be as much like sailors as possible, and to the music of a very odd-sounding sea-song the cables were hove in until the Zoe was freed from all her moorings.
Then the captain, who knew even less about nautical matters than did his crew, took his station at the halyards, and one by one the little sails were hoisted.
Almost any kind of a fresh-water sailor can run a craft with the wind dead astern, therefore there was no danger of any mistake being made until it should be necessary to change the course; but as he took his station at the wheel, Ned could not fail to ask himself what might be the result before the voyage came to an end.
“I never run a boat before with more than one sail,” he said to himself, “an’ am afraid I’ll make a mess of it before we got very far; but things can’t be much worse than they were when we was on the island waitin’ for a craft that never hove in sight.”
His unpleasant thoughts were interrupted by a shout from his companions, who were standing directly in front of the pilot-house watching as the yacht glided slowly away from the land.
“We’re not only afloat, but moving!” Roy cried, “so let’s give three cheers for good luck!”
Vance aided him in thus starting the yacht with proper ceremony, while Ned remained silent, his face wearing an expression of deepest anxiety.
“Why don’t you cheer?” Vance asked. “Any one would think you didn’t feel glad at getting away from the key.”
“I am all the same; but now I can’t help feelin’ nervous about the trip. Neither of us know how to handle a craft properly, and, to make the matter worse, we can only guess at the direction we want to go. It begins to look more serious than when we were only talkin’ the matter over.”