Oscar had learned enough of Bates to enable him to do this. He even knew that “steering small” was to move the wheel but a little at a time.
“That’s right: now you have the steamer on her course. Remember, that, so far as any turning is concerned, the compass is stationary. It is the steamer, and not the compass, that turns, the needle always pointing to the north.”
“I think I understand it, sir,” replied Oscar.
But he did not, for the very first time he moved the wheel he turned it the wrong way.
“The other way, Chester,” interposed the principal very gently. “You are doing first-rate, and you will soon get the hang of the new schoolhouse.”
Oscar reversed the movement of the wheel, and soon got the course again. He was wholly absorbed in his duty, and at that moment he had forgotten that Dory stood within a few feet of him. In a few minutes the second pilot got the nack of keeping the point for which he was steering on the mark.
“You are all right now, Chester,” said the captain. “You will make a good pilot in due time.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Oscar, who certainly appeared to have been greatly humanized by his experience on board.
The Sylph went along on her new course very
well. The second pilot had learned the art of steering small, and the steamer hardly wabbled at all. He kept his eyes fixed steadily on the compass, and the danger was that he would see nothing else. A small steamer was directly ahead, bound up the lake. Oscar did not appear to see her. Presently she blew one whistle. Dory waited for the second pilot to respond to the signal, but he did not appear to understand it. He had been shut up in the ice-house the night before when these signals were explained. Bates had had no occasion to instruct him in the manner of passing other steamers.