SOON after daylight on a raw and chilly March morning the masthead lookout cried “Land-ho!” And the officers and crew of the North Cape knew that their voyage across the Atlantic had reached its last stage. Captain Griffith was on the bridge, as most careful commanders are on entering the busy English Channel; and Kit was there too, eager for a first sight of the Old World. An hour later the Scilly Islands could be seen plainly without a glass, though at that distance they looked like a single island with ships’ masts growing upon it like trees. Kit had read as much as possible in the Captain’s books about the places he was to see, so he knew that the group is composed of about fifty small islands, and that what looked like ships’ masts were the signal poles upon which are announced the arrival and departure of more vessels than are signalled at any other place in the world.
The second officer was busy on deck making fast a series of six or eight signal flags to a line, and at a word from the Captain they were hoisted. A moment later a large black ball was run up on one of the poles on shore, and the flags were lowered, folded, and returned to the flag locker. It was done so quickly that Kit could hardly believe that those few stripes of bunting had accomplished so much in so short a time; but he knew that the flags said to the signalman on shore, “North Cape, from Barbadoes for London, eighteen days, with sugar”; and that when the signalman hoisted his black ball it said, “All right; I understand you.” And he knew, too, that almost before the flags were lowered a telegraphic message had gone to London, announcing the ship’s arrival, to be posted in the Maritime Exchange, where her agents would see it as soon as the Exchange opened for the day; and that long before that the news would have gone under the ocean by cable to be posted in the Exchange in New York, where it would appear a few hours later in the afternoon newspapers. So by the hoisting of those few flags the whole world was informed that the North Cape had made her voyage safely, and was approaching her destination.
“What’s the matter, Silburn?” the Captain asked, bringing his hand down on Kit’s shoulder. “You look sorry to have the voyage nearly ended. Would you rather turn round and go back?”
“No, sir!” Kit replied; “I’m anything but sorry. But I was just thinking what a tremendous lot there is to learn in this world. Here we have seen nothing but sky and water for eighteen days, and with only the sun and stars to guide you, you knew almost the exact minute when we should be here beside the Scilly Islands. Then you hoist a flag, and in ten minutes they know in New York and in Barbadoes that we have arrived. It is the most wonderful thing I ever saw.”
“Oh, no, Christopher,” the Captain answered; “you have seen stranger things than that. Do you see the sun coming up out of the water there to eastward? That is rather more wonderful, isn’t it? Every leaf on every tree is more wonderful than anything that man has done. If we knew half as much as we think we do, there would be no more sickness in the world, because we would have a cure for every disease; no more poverty, for the earth is full of wealth and we should know how to get it out; and instead of merely sending a few dots and dashes by a wire across the ocean, we should be able to see what they are doing over in New York, and talk to them. We may come to that some day.”
“I wish we had come to that now, sir!” Kit exclaimed. “If we could see all over the world, I should know where my father is, if he is alive.”
“It’s better as it is, my boy,” the Captain went on. “To see over the world would gratify your curiosity, but it would give you a great deal of worry. No, there are some mysteries of nature that we are better off not to understand, at least until we have advanced enough in all directions to understand that everything that happens is for the best. Still, we must always make the best of what we do know. Some people, for instance, know enough to go below when the breakfast bell rings. Come along.
“This is a great coast to learn history from,” the Captain continued, while they were eating breakfast. “A large share of the modern history of the world has been made in this channel. We don’t want to see a storm to-day, but if it had not been for a storm in this channel, you would most likely be a Catholic, and we should have an image of the Virgin Mary in the cabin.”
“Oh, yes, sir, I know about that,” Kit interrupted. “You mean the storm that broke up the great Spanish Armada. But the British say they had the Armada whipped before the storm came.”
“Trust the British for that!” the Captain laughed; “they won’t let even nature have any of the credit. But that is only one thing in a hundred. Here is Land’s End just off our port bow, on the coast of Cornwall. A few years ago they were all singing a song beginning:—