"I believe that. A boat ought to carry a weather helm. I think the legislature ought to make a law that a boat should carry a weather helm, and make it a state-prison offence to carry a lee helm, which is very bad," said Corny Minkfield.

"If you are going to do all the talking, I haven't any thing more to say," replied Dory with dignity.

"Don't get mad, Dory. We don't know what a weather helm is any better than we do what a lee helm is," added Corny, as an apology for the interruption.

"I was going to tell you what a weather helm is; for, when you know what one is, you will understand the other: but you keep putting your oars in, fellows, so that I don't get a chance."

"We won't say another word until we know what a weather helm is, and what a lee helm is," said Thad. "Dry up, fellows! not another word."

"A boat ought to carry a weather helm," Dory began again; and then he paused to give his companions a chance to interrupt him.

Corny was just going to remind him that he had said this before, when Thad put his finger on his lips, and the remark was suppressed. Dory looked at them all, and found that they intended to "give him the floor;" and then he proceeded with his explanation.

"The wind don't always blow just the same," Dory proceeded; and Corny could hardly help making a comment on this sage remark. "I don't mean on different days, but within the same hour. In other words, the wind don't come steady. To-day it comes down in heavy flaws. You can see the effect of the puffs on the top of the water. A vessel keeps tipping a little in almost any breeze."

The members of the Goldwing Club nodded all around to indicate that they understood the matter so far.

"When a flaw or puff comes," Dory continued, "it changes the course of the boat. The helm has to be shifted to meet this change. Almost always the tiller has to be carried to the weather side of the boat. Do you know which the weather side of the boat is, fellows?" asked the expounder of nautical matters.

"It is the side the weather is on, of course," replied Corny.

"It is the side from which the wind comes," added Thad, who thought it was not quite fair to make fun of the remarks of the skipper when he was doing his best to have them understand the difficulty with the Goldwing.

"And what do you call the other side?" asked Dory.

"The lee side, I think," answered Thad.

"Right, Thad; and Corny was not so far out of the way as he meant to be, for to a sailor the wind is about all there is of the weather. When a flaw comes, and you have to carry the tiller to the weather side of the boat to keep her on her course, that is a weather helm," Dory proceeded.

"I see it!" exclaimed Nat Long, as though he had made a great discovery.

"I don't believe you do, Nat," interposed the skipper. "Suppose you don't carry the tiller to the weather side, what will happen then?"

"I don't know that any thing will happen," answered Nat, rather abashed at his own ignorance.

"That's the point of all that has been said," added Dory.

"Well, what will happen? Will she tip over?" asked Nat.

"That is the very thing she won't do; and that's the reason why a boat ought to carry a weather helm, so that she won't tip over if the helmsman don't happen to have his eyes wide open tight. If you don't put the helm to the weather side, the head of the boat will come up to the wind. As she comes up into the wind, it spills the sail."

"Spills the sail!" exclaimed Corny, who could hold in no longer. "I have heard of spilling the milk, but not of spilling a sail."

"It means to spill the wind out of the sail," added Dory. "In other words, it takes the wind out of the sail, and it don't press against the sail any longer. And, if the wind don't press against the sail, of course it won't tip the boat over."

"That's plain enough. I understand that first-rate," said Thad. "If a puff brings the boat up into the wind, then the wind don't bear hard on the sail, and it won't upset the boat."

"Now let us see how it works when a boat carries a lee helm. Instead of coming up into the wind when a flaw strikes the sail, some boats go the other way. The flaw crowds them off from the wind. The more she falls off, the harder the wind presses against the sail. If the puff throws the head of the boat far enough from the wind, it will blow square against it; and, if there is enough of it, it will upset any boat. Then, if you have to put the helm away from the wind in order to keep the course, that's a lee helm; and it's a dangerous thing in any boat, though it can generally be easily corrected if the skipper understands the matter."

"I see it," said Thad. "I suppose the owner of this boat did not understand it."

"They say he was obstinate about it, and would not take the advice of those who did understand the matter," added Dory. "I have shifted the ballast; and I think the Goldwing will work all right now, though I wish the foremast was in the old hole."

The members of the club declared that they understood the matter perfectly. They were willing to return to Burlington in the Goldwing if it could be shown that she carried a weather helm. When the skipper had finished his explanation, he went forward, and took another look at the hole which had been stopped. He found a shingling hatchet in the cuddy, and with this he attempted to drive out the filling of the mast-hole.

After a deal of pounding, he succeeded in the attempt.

He lost no time in demolishing the locker in the head which Mr. Lapham had fitted there. For an hour he worked very diligently, a.s.sisted by all the other members of the club; and the foremast was transferred to the hole the builder had intended it should occupy. The stays were adjusted again with the greatest care on the part of the skipper, and made strong enough for the heavy weather that prevailed on the lake.

"Isn't there any thing to eat on board, Dory?" asked Thad. "We are almost starved."

There was not a morsel of food on board, but Dory said he would go over to the town if he could.

CHAPTER X.

THE MISSISQUOI IN PURSUIT.

Of course Dory Dornwood had no suspicion of what had transpired on sh.o.r.e since he departed in the Goldwing. The hunger of the other members of the club reminded him that he might make a long pa.s.sage to Burlington, or that he might be compelled to lie at anchor for a whole day before it was safe to cross the lake in the present state of the weather. He might be hungry himself as well as his companions, and he had not thought to lay in a stock of provisions for the voyage.

For this reason he was all the more willing to land at Plattsburgh. He hoisted the reefed mainsail again, and directed a couple of the party to get up the anchor. The Goldwing darted off at a furious rate, as she had before, when the fresh breeze filled her sails. She took the wind on her quarter at first; but Dory soon braced her up as she rounded the southerly beacon at the end of the breakwater, and headed the boat for the main sh.o.r.e.

"How does she work now, Dory?" asked Thad when the boat was on her course. "Does she carry a lee helm?"

"Not at all. It takes all my strength to keep her from luffing up,"

replied the skipper.

"There's another new word," added Corny Minkfield. "What in the world does 'luffing up' mean?"

"'To luff' is to come into the wind. I mean by that, to turn the head of the boat in the direction from which the wind comes," replied Dory. "But what she does under her present sail don't settle the question. I took the bonnet off the jib before I left the wharf this morning."

"The bonnet!" shouted Corny. "Does the boat wear a bonnet?"

"Of course she does. You never made the mistake of putting a boat in the masculine gender. You always say 'she' in speaking of a boat; and of course she wears a bonnet when she goes out."

"But when the weather is bad you take the bonnet off; and that is not the way the ladies do," suggested Thad.

"In rough weather the bonnet makes it all the rougher," added Dory. "The bonnet is a continuation of the jib, laced to the lower part of the sail. Taking off the bonnet amounts to the same thing as reefing the sail."

"Reefing the sail is taking in a part of the sheet by tying it up in a fold," said Nat Long, looking very wise.

"Not much!" answered the skipper.

"That's what my father told me; and he is a deck-hand on board of the Champlain," persisted Nat.

"I don't believe he said any thing of the kind, Nat. Taking up a part of the sheet by tying it into a fold would be a queer operation. Do you run away with the idea that the jib is a sheet?"