Bevis Part 43

The water was rippling under a light but steady and pleasant summer breeze from the north-west. They pushed out, and while the boat slowly drifted, set the sails. Directly the foresail was up she turned and moved bow first, like a horse led by the bridle. When the mainsail was hoisted she began to turn again towards the wind, so that Bevis, who steered, had to pull the tiller towards him, or in another minute they would have run into the weeds. He kept her straight before the wind till they had got out of the bay where the boats were kept, and into the open water where the wind came stronger. Then he steered up the New Sea, so that the wind blew right across the boat, coming from the right-hand side.

It was a beautiful breeze, just the one they wanted, not too strong, and from the best direction, so that they could sail all the way there and back 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 trim the boat by their weight and make her stiffer. He was to work the foresail if they had to tack, or let down the mainsail if a white squall or a tornado struck the s.h.i.+p. The ripples kissed the bow with a merry smack, smack, smack; sometimes there was a rush of bubbles, and they could 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. The suns.h.i.+ne shone on the white canvas hollowed out by the wind; as the pilot looked up he could see the slender top of the mast tracing a line under the azure sky. Is there anything so delicious as the first sail in your own boat that you have rigged yourself?

Away she slipped, and Mark began to hum, knocking the seat with his knuckles 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 a puff came, for were they not voyaging on unknown seas? Bevis sang the same 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 n.o.body knows anything."

"Except us."

"Of course."

"Are you going all round or straight up?" said Mark presently, as they came near Fir-Tree Gulf.

"We ought to coast," said Bevis. "They used to; we mustn't go out of sight of land."

"Steer into the gulf then; mind the stony point; what's that, what's the name?"

"I don't know," said Bevis. "It's a dreadful place; awful rocks--smash, crash, s.h.i.+p'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 the India 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 a pa.s.sage--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 to see better and shout directions to the pilot.

"Left--left."

"Port."

"Well, port."

"Starboard, now--that side. There, we sc.r.a.ped some weeds." The weeds made a rustling sound as the boat pa.s.sed over them.

"Right--right--starboard, that side," holding out his hand, "you'll hit the 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 between the sandy island and the rocky wall, so close to the wall that the sail leaning over the side nearly swept it. Then he steered so as to pa.s.s along about three yards from the sh.o.r.e. The quarry opened out, and they went by it on towards the place where they bathed.

"Kails," said Mark, "mind the rails." By the bathing-place the posts and rails which were continued into the water were partly under the surface, so that a boat might get fixed on the top. Bevis pushed the tiller over, and the boat came round broadside to the wind, and began to cross 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 sh.o.r.e, and seemed to rush in a stronger draught through the trees. These wavelets were not large enough to make the boat dance, but they caused more splas.h.i.+ng at the bow, and she heeled a little to the wind. They slipped across the head of the gulf, some two hundred yards, at a good pace, steering for the 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 the foresail was pulling, and held it in his hand. "I'm ready," he said, and in a minute,--"Quick, we shall be on sh.o.r.e."

Bevis pushed the tiller down hard to the left, at the same time telling Mark to let go. Mark loosened the foresheet, and the boat turning to the right was carried by her own impetus and the pressure of the mainsail up towards the wind. Bevis expected her to do as he had seen the yachts and s.h.i.+ps at the seaside, and as he had read was the proper way, to come round slowly facing the wind, till just as she pa.s.sed the straight line as it were of the breeze, Mark would have to tighten the foresheet, and the wind would press on the foresail like a lever and complete the turn.

He watched the foresail eagerly, for the moment to shout to Mark; the boat moved up towards the wind, then paused, hung, and began to fall back again. The wind blew her back. Bevis jammed the tiller down still harder, rose from his seat, bawled, "Mark! Mark!" but he was jerked back in a moment as she took the ground.

Mark seized a scull to push her off, when letting go the sheet the foresail flapped furiously, drawing the cord or rope through the staple as if it would snap it. Bevis, fearing the boat would turn over, let go the mainsheet, and then the mainsail flew over the left side, flapping and shaking the mast, while the sheet or rope struck the water and splashed 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. The boat came off, and Bevis was thrown down on the ballast. The wind took her before they could scramble into their places, and she drifted across the mouth of the Nile and grounded again.

"Down with the sail, I tell you," shouted Bevis in a rage. "Not that one--the big one."

Mark undid the cord or halyard, and down fell the mainsail into the boat, covering Bevis, who had to get out from under it before he could do anything.