Bevis went on with the mast and the new gaff and bowsprit, and when Mark got back about sunset he had the new mast and rigging fitted up in the shed to see how it looked. The first time they made a mast it took them a long while, but now, having learned exactly how to do it, the second had soon been prepared. The top rose above the beam of the shed, and the mainsail stretched out under the eave.
“Hoist the peak up higher,” said the governor. Being so busy they had not heard him come. “Hoist it up well, Mark.”
Mark gave another pull at the halyard, and drew the peak, or point of the gaff, up till it stood at a sharp angle.
“The more peak you can get,” said the governor, “the more leverage the wind has, and the better she will answer the rudder.”
He was almost as interested in their sailing as they were themselves, and had watched them from the bank of the New Sea concealed behind the trees. But he considered it best that they should teach themselves, and find out little by little where they were wrong. Besides which he knew that the greatest pleasure is always obtained from inferior and incomplete instruments. Present a perfect yacht, a beautiful horse, a fine gun, or anything complete to a beginner, and the edge of his enjoyment is dulled with too speedy possession. The best way to learn to ride is on a rough pony, to sail in an open ill-built boat, because by encountering difficulties the learner comes to understand and appreciate the perfect instrument, and to wield or direct it with fifty times more power than if he had been born to the purple.
From the shore the governor had watched them vainly striving to tack, and could but just refrain from pointing out the reason. When he saw them fitting up the enlarged sails and the new mast, he exulted almost as much as they did themselves. “They will do it,” he said to himself, “they will do it this time.”
Then to Bevis, “Pull the mainsail back as far as you can, and don’t let it hollow out, not hollow and loose. Keep it taut. It ought be as flat as a board. There—” He turned away abruptly, fearing he had told them too much.
“As flat as a board,” repeated Bevis. “So I will. But we thought it was best hollow, didn’t we?” There was still enough light left to see to step the mast, so they carried the sails and rigging up to the boat, and fitted them the same evening.