Bevis Part 50

"It will do now," said Mark.

"Once more," said Bevis.

"Now," said Mark, as they had come round.

"Yes!"

From the westward sh.o.r.e Bevis kept her close to the wind, and as the water opened out, he steered for Fir-Tree Gulf. He calculated that he should just clear the stony promontory. Against the rocky wall the waves dashed and rose up high above it, the spray was carried over the bank and into the quarry. The sandbank or islet in front was concealed, the water running over it, but its site was marked by boiling surge.

The waves broke over it, and then met other waves thrown back from the wall; charging each other, they sprang up in pointed tips, which parted and fell. Over the gra.s.sy bank above rolled brown froth, which was then lifted and blown away. This was one of those places where the wind always seems to blow with greater force. In a gale from the southwest it was difficult to walk along the bank, and even now with only a light breeze the waves ran at the stony point as if they were mad. Bevis steered between Scylla and Charybdis, keeping a little nearer the sunken islet this time, the waves roared and broke on each side of them, froth caught against the sails, the boat shook as the reflux swept back and met the oncoming current; the rocky wall seemed to fly by, and in an instant they were past and in the gulf.

Hauling into the wind, the boat shot out from the receding sh.o.r.e, and as they approached the firs they were already half across to the Nile.

Returning, they had now a broad and splendid sea to sail in, and this tack took them up so far that next time they were outside the gulf. It was really sailing now, long tacks, or "legs," edging aslant up into the wind, and leaving the quarry far behind.

"It's splendid," said Mark. "Let me steer now."

Bevis agreed, and Mark crept aft on hands and knees, anxious not to disturb the trim of the boat; Bevis went forward and took his place in the same manner, b.u.t.toning his jacket and turning up his collar.

Mark steered quite as well. Bevis had learned how to work the boat, to coax her, from the boat and the sails themselves. Mark had learned from Bevis, and much quicker. It requires time, continued observation, and keenest perception to learn from nature. When one has thus acquired the art, others can learn from him in a short while and easily. Mark steered and handled the sheet, and brought her round as handily as if he had been at it all the time.

These lengthened zigzags soon carried them far up the broad water, and the farther they went the smaller the waves became, having so much the less distance to come, till presently they were but big ripples, and the boat ceased to dance. As the waves did not now oppose her progress so much, there was but little spray, and she slipped through faster. The motive power, the wind, was the same; the opposing force, the waves, less. The speed increased, and they soon approached Bevis's island, having worked the whole distance up against the wind. They agreed to land, and Mark brought her to the very spot where they had got out before. Bevis doused the mainsail, leaped out, and tugged her well aground. After Mark had stepped ash.o.r.e they careened the boat and baled out the water.

There was no tree or root sufficiently near to fasten the painter to, so they took out the anchor, carried it some way inland, and forced one of the flukes into the ground. The boat was quite safe and far enough aground not to drift off, but it was not proper to leave a s.h.i.+p without mooring her. Mark wanted to go and look at the place he thought so well adapted for a cave, so they walked through between the bushes, when he suddenly remembered that the vessel in which they had just accomplished so successful a voyage had not got a name.

"The s.h.i.+p ought to have a name," he said. "Blue boat sounds stupid."

"So she ought," said Bevis. "Why didn't we think of it before? There's Arethusa, Agamemnon, Sandusky, Orient--"

"Swallow, Viking, Saint George--but that won't do," said Mark. "Those are s.h.i.+ps that sail now and some have steam; what were old s.h.i.+ps--"

"Argo," said Bevis. "I wonder what was the name of Ulysses' s.h.i.+p--"

"I know," said Mark, "Pinta--that's it. One of Columbus's s.h.i.+ps, you know. He was the first to go over there, and we're the first on the New Sea."

"So we are; it shall be Pinta, I'll paint it, and the island ought to have a name too."

"Of course. Let's see: Tahiti?" said Mark. "Loo-choo?"

"Celebes?"

"Carribbees?"

"Cyclades? But those are a lot of islands, aren't they?"

"Formosa is a good name," said Bevis. "It sounds right. But I don't know where it is--it's somewhere."

"Don't matter--call it New Formosa."

"Capital," said Bevis. "The very thing; there's New Zealand and New Guinea. Right. It's New Formosa."

"Or the Land of Magic."

"New Formosa or the Magic Land," said Bevis. "I'll write it down on the map we made when we get home."

"Here's the place," said Mark. "This is where the cave ought to be,"

pointing at a spot where the sandy cliff rose nearly perpendicular; "and then we ought to have a hut over it."

"Poles stuck in and leaning down and thatched."

"Yes, and a palisade of thick stakes stuck in, in front of the door."

"So that no one could take us by surprise at night."

"And far enough off for us to have our fire inside."

"Twist bushes in between the stakes."

"Quite impa.s.sable to naked savages."

"How high?"

"Seven feet."

"Or very nearly."

"We could make a bed, and sleep all night."

"Wouldn't it be splendid to stop here altogether?"

"First-rate; no stupid sillinesses."

"No bother."

"Have your dinner when you like."

"n.o.body to bother where you've been to."

"Let's live here."

"All right. Only we must have a gun to shoot birds and things to eat,"

said Bevis. "It's no use unless we have a gun; it's not proper, nor anything."

"No more it is," said Mark; "we _must_ have a gun. Go and stare at Frances."

"But it takes such a time, and then you know how slow Jack is. It would take him three months to make up his mind to lend us the rifle."

"So it would," said Mark; "Jack's awful slow, like his old mill-wheel up there."