opened the door of the sitting-room where his mother was reading,walked up to her, kissed her, and whispered, "I'm sorry; tell thegovernor," and was off before she could answer. Next morning he was asbright as a lark, and every thing went smoothly again. The governorsmiled once more, and asked where they intended to sail to first.
"Serendib," said Mark.
"A long voyage," said the governor.
"Thousands of miles," said Bevis. "Come on, Mark; what a lot you doeat."
Mark came, but as they went up the meadow he said that there ought to bean anchor.
"So there ought," said Bevis. "We'll make one like that in thepicture--you know, with a wooden shaft, and a stone let through it."
"Like they used to have when they first had ships," said Mark.
"And went cruising along the shore--"
"We've forgotten the compass."
"Of course, that's right; they had no compass when we lived."
"No; they steered by the sun. Look, there's a jolly wind."
The water was rippling under a light but steady and pleasant summerbreeze from the north-west. They pushed out, and while the boat slowlydrifted, set the sails. Directly the foresail was up she turned andmoved bow first, like a horse led by the bridle. When the mainsail washoisted she began to turn again towards the wind, so that Bevis, whosteered, had to pull the tiller towards him, or in another minute theywould have run into the weeds. He kept her straight before the windtill they had got out of the bay where the boats were kept, and into theopen water where the wind came stronger. Then he steered up the NewSea, so that the wind blew right across the boat, coming from theright-hand side.
It was a beautiful breeze, just the one they wanted, not too strong, andfrom the best direction, so that they could sail all the way there andback without trouble, a soldier's wind, out and home again.
Mark sat by the mast, both of them on the windward side, so as to trimthe boat by their weight and make her stiffer. He was to work theforesail if they had to tack, or let down the mainsail if a white squallor a tornado struck the ship. The ripples kissed the bow with a merrysmack, smack, smack; sometimes there was a rush of bubbles, and theycould feel the boat heel a little as the wind for a moment blew harder.
"How fast we're going!" said Mark. "Hurrah!"
"Listen to the bubbles? Don't the sails look jolly?" said Bevis. Thesunshine shone on the white canvas hollowed out by the wind; as thepilot looked up he could see the slender top of the mast tracing a lineunder the azure sky. Is there anything so delicious as the first sailin your own boat that you have rigged yourself?
Away she slipped, and Mark began to hum, knocking the seat with hisknuckles to keep time. Then Bevis sang, making a tune of his own,leaning back and watching the sails with the sheet handy to let go if apuff came, for were they not voyaging on unknown seas? Bevis sang thesame two verses over and over:--
"Telling how the Count Arnaldos, With his hawk upon his hand, Saw a fair and stately galley, Steering onward to the land.
`Learn the secret of the sea? Only those who brave its dangers, Comprehend its mystery!'"
Mark sang with him, till by-and-by he said, "There's the battlefield;what country's that?"
"Thessaly," said Bevis. "It's the last land we know; now it's all new,and nobody knows anything."
"Except us."
"Of course."
"Are you going all round or straight up?" said Mark presently, as theycame near Fir-Tree Gulf.
"We ought to coast," said Bevis. "They used to; we mustn't go out ofsight of land."
"Steer into the gulf then; mind the stony point; what's that, what's thename?"
"I don't know," said Bevis. "It's a dreadful place; awful rocks--smash,crash, ship's side stove in--no chance for any body to escape there."
"A raft would be smashed."
"Lifeboats swamped."
"People jammed on the rocks."
"Pounded into jelly-fish."
"But it ought to have a name? Is it Cape Horn?"
"I don't think so, that's the other way round the world; we're more theIndia way, I think."
"Perhaps it's Gibraltar."
"As if we shouldn't know Gibraltar!"
"Of course we should, I forgot. Look! There's a little island and apassage--a channel. Mind how you steer--"
"It's Scylla and Charybdis," said Bevis. "I can see quite plain."
"Steer straight," said Mark. "There's not much room, rocks one side,shoal the other; it's not a pistol-shot wide--"
"Not half a pistol-shot."
"We're going. Hark! bubbles!"
Volume Two, Chapter VII.
SAILING CONTINUED--"THERE SHE LAY, ALL THE DAY!"
Bevis had eased off, and the boat was sailing right before the wind,which blew direct into the gulf. Mark crawled up more into the bow tosee better and shout directions to the pilot.
"Left--left."
"Port."
"Well, port."
"Starboard, now--that side. There, we scraped some weeds." The weedsmade a rustling sound as the boat passed over them.
"Right--right--starboard, that side," holding out his hand, "you'll hitthe rocks; you're too close."
"Pooh!" said Bevis. "It's deeper under the rocks, don't you remember."He prided himself on steering within an inch; the boat glided betweenthe sandy island and the rocky wall, so close to the wall that the sailleaning over the side nearly swept it. Then he steered so as to passalong about three yards from the shore. The quarry opened out, and theywent by it on towards the place where they bathed.
"Kails," said Mark, "mind the rails." By the bathing-place the postsand rails which were continued into the water were partly under thesurface, so that a boat might get fixed on the top. Bevis pushed thetiller over, and the boat came round broadside to the wind, and began tocross the head of Fir-Tree Gulf.
The ripples here increased in size, and became wavelets as the breeze,crossing a wider surface of water, blew straight on shore, and seemed torush in a stronger draught through the trees. These wavelets were notlarge enough to make the boat dance, but they caused more splashing atthe bow, and she heeled a little to the wind. They slipped across thehead of the gulf, some two hundred yards, at a good pace, steering forthe mouth of the Nile.
"Tack," said Bevis, as they came near. "It's almost time. Get ready."
Mark unfastened the cord or sheet on the left side, against which theforesail was pulling, and held it in his hand. "I'm ready," he said,and in a minute,--"Quick, we shall be on shore."
Bevis pushed the tiller down hard to the left, at the same time tellingMark to let go. Mark loosened the foresheet, and the boat turning tothe right was carried by her own impetus and the pressure of themainsail up towards the wind. Bevis expected her to do as he had seenthe yachts and ships at the seaside, and as he had read was the properway, to come round slowly facing the wind, till just as she passed thestraight line as it were of the breeze, Mark would have to tighten theforesheet, and the wind would press on the foresail like a lever andcomplete the turn.
He watched the foresail eagerly, for the moment to shout to Mark; theboat moved up towards the wind, then paused, hung, and began to fallback again. The wind blew her back. Bevis jammed the tiller down stillharder, rose from his seat, bawled, "Mark! Mark!" but he was jerkedback in a moment as she took the ground.
Mark seized a scull to push her off, when letting go the sheet theforesail flapped furiously, drawing the cord or rope through the stapleas if it would snap it. Bevis, fearing the boat would turn over, let gothe mainsheet, and then the mainsail flew over the left side, flappingand shaking the mast, while the sheet or rope struck the water andsplashed it as if it were hit with a whip.
"Pull down the mainsail," shouted Bevis, stumbling forward.
"Hold tight," shouted Mark, giving a great shove with the scull. Theboat came off, and Bevis was thrown down on the ballast. The wind tookher before they could scramble into their places, and she drifted
acrossthe mouth of the Nile and grounded again.
"Down with the sail, I tell you," shouted Bevis in a rage. "Not thatone--the big one."
Mark undid the cord or halyard, and down fell the mainsail into theboat, covering Bevis, who had to get out from under it before he coulddo anything.
"Did you ever see such a bother?" said Mark.
"Is anything broken?" said Bevis.
"No. You ought to have tacked sooner."
"How could I tell? She
Bevis: The Story of a Boy Page 44