"I know you can't. If you don't want to larn, say so, and I'll make the boat fast to the stake again," added the old boatman sharply, as though he meant what he said.

"We do! We do!" protested the boys with one voice.

"Then be quiet, and keep your ear-ports wide open. The boy next to the bow is the bowman. The stroke oarsman is the one farthest aft, or nearest the starn. Each on 'em has a boat-hook. Now take 'em, and shove her off."

The two boys obeyed, and placing the point of the boat-hooks against the rock, shoved off with all their might; and the Zephyr receded from the sh.o.r.e till the wind took her, and drove her out under the lee of Centre Island. Here he directed Tony to throw the grapnel, a small anchor with four flukes, overboard, as much to a.s.sure the impatient oarsmen that there was to be no rowing at present, as to hold the boat where she was.

"Now, boys, I want you to larn somethin', so as to know where you are.

Some on you better write it down; and don't forgit it."

Several of them took paper and pencils from their pockets, and were ready to write down what was said.

"The for'd part of the boat is the bow; also the fore-sheets,"

continued the old sailor. "The after part, where the c.o.xswain sets, is the starn-sheets. The middle of the boat is the waist. Enough of that for now. Do you know what an oar is?"

"Of course we do, Uncle Ben!" shouted the crew.

"An oar has three parts," said the instructor.

"It is all in one piece," added one of the boys.

"So is your head all in one piece; but haven't you got any nose, ears, and chin. An oar has three parts,--the blade, the loom, and the handle.

The blade is the part you put in the water. The handle is the part you take hold of. The loom is the round part between the blade and the handle. Can you remember that if you haven't writ it down?"

"We know all that like a book," replied Fred Harper.

"This is a carvel-built boat; that is, her planking runs fore and aft,"

Uncle Ben explained, using gestures to indicate the direction.

"Planking may mean boards or thinner stuff. The planks are jointed at the edges so as to fit close, and the s.p.a.ces between are stuffed with oak.u.m, which is called calking. A clinker-built boat is put together in the same way, but one plank laps over another; and we generally call this kind of boat a lap-streak. Now, youngsters, we are going to take the oars--not yet, till you know how to do it. The first command of the c.o.xswain will be 'Up oars!' They lay now across the thwarts."

"Across what?" asked one of them.

"The thwarts: lubbers call them the seats," replied the old seaman, laughing. "You set backwards when you row, all facing the c.o.xswain.

Them as is on the starboard side has the oars on their left. Those on the port has 'em on their right, just where you will put them when you boat your oars after you have done using them. Now, Frank, you will give the first command; but not one of you will obey it, for you don't know how."

"Up oars!" said the c.o.xswain in a commanding tone.

"At this order, you will pick up your oars, and hold them up straight, with the blades athwartships, or across the boat," the instructor explained. "If the boat were at a landing, or alongside another boat, the two bowmen and the two stroke oarsmen would not do as the others do; for it would be their duty to shove off, and get the boat under way. Now you may try it; but don't hurry. Give the order again, Frank.

Stand up this time, so that you can see the whole length of the boat."

The c.o.xswain rose from his seat; and having no little natural dignity, he did it very gracefully, and was not at all flurried.

"Up oars!" said he very slowly, pausing between the words.

All hands made a dive, as it were, at the oars, and stood them up as required. But they hit each other in the back, rapped others on the head, elevated the oars so that there was neither order nor symmetry in the movement, and they were straggling as many different ways as there were boys.

"Avast there! That won't do at all!" shouted Uncle Ben. "You are all snarled up, and we must have it done shipshape."

He seated himself on the after thwart, after he had required them to boat their oars, and proceeded to show them how to pick them up. He went forward, and repeated the movement. Then he made several of them do it alone. Next four of them did it together. At last he believed he had them in condition to execute the manoeuvre properly. Then he called upon Frank to give the order again, and this time they did it as well as could be expected. He was not satisfied, and compelled the oarsmen to go through it repeatedly for half an hour.

"Now we will begin again," said Uncle Ben. "If you do it well, we will go on. Give the order, Frank."

They did it better than at any time before; and while the crew sat with the oars elevated, the old sailor proceeded to explain the next movement.

"If we were at a landing, or alongside the sailboat, you would remain as you be now, till the boat was clear of everything, before the next order would come. That command will be 'Let fall!' Then you will let your oars drop upon the water all at once, striking it at just the same instant. But you will not let the loom of the oar touch the gunwale."

"Where is the gunwale?" asked one of the boys.

"The rail along the top of the boat in which the rowlocks are set. You mustn't let an oar touch that. Keep hold of the handle with the blade on the water. Then, without any command, you will ship the oar; in other words, drop the loom into the rowlock. Now go through that again.

Steady, and don't hurry. Do it in about the time the stroke oarsman gives you."

Frank gave the commands again, beginning with "Up oars!" till the oarsmen had shipped their oars; and it was very well done, and Uncle Ben actually praised the crew.

"The next command is 'Give way together!'" said the old sailor. "You will take the time from the stroke oar, and pull with it all the time."

Fred Harper was the aftermost rower; and the instructor asked him to vacate his seat, which Ben took himself, with the oar in his hands.

"Now carry the handle of the oar forward to easy arm's length towards the starn," continued Ben, suiting the action to the word; and all followed his example. "Drop the end of the oar into the water till the blade is just covered, no deeper. Then pause a bit, and pull the handle towards you to your b.r.e.a.s.t.s, or very nearly there."

The crew followed the instructions, and imitated the old seaman till they had taken their first stroke. These movements were repeated several times, till they could do them well. Then they began again with Frank giving the commands, and they went through the whole till they could do everything to the satisfaction of the teacher.

"Now, bowman, you may weigh the anchor," said Uncle Ben; and the hearts of the boys beat rapidly, for the time for actual rowing had come.

Tony Weston hauled in the grapnel, and stowed it in the fore-sheets.

"Up oars!" commanded Frank, rising from his seat; and all the oars were elevated in good order, though not quite perfect. "Let fall!" he continued; and this movement was very well done, and all shipped their oars. "Give way together!"

The boat began to move, and the motion seemed to perplex some of the oarsmen. A few of them appeared to be trying to touch bottom, and on the second stroke they were in a snarl.

"Avast, all!" shouted Uncle Ben. "This won't do! Some of you act as though you were spearing eels. You are not to bury your oar in the water above the blade at any time. You must keep the flat part of the oar up and down in the water always. If you turn it in pulling, the blade will shoot up into the air, or dive down towards the bottom."

Then he practised them for a full half-hour on this step, and finally brought them up to a very handsome stroke. Then Frank gave the commands again, and they pulled pa.s.sably well. Directing the c.o.xswain to head the Zephyr up the lake, Ben gave his attention to individuals, pointing out their faults, and correcting them. The boat seemed to be as light as a feather; and even with the indifferent rowing, she made tremendous headway, as the boys thought. She was soon at the head of the lake.

"Now, boys, we have to stop as well as start her," said the teacher, some time before the boat reached the head of the lake, where the river flowed into it; "and the command will be, 'Stand by to lay on your oars!' But that order is only for you to be ready to do it. The next command will be 'Oars!' The last order, Frank, must be given at the beginning of a stroke, the oars being in the water. Then, boys, you will level your oars, all in a straight line, not one above or below the others; and you will turn, or feather them, as it is called, so that they would lie flat on the water if dropped down; but they must not be dropped down, not one of them. Now give the command, Frank. You need not stand up to do it, unless there's an emergency."

"Stand by to lay on your oars!" called the c.o.xswain. "Oars!" he added after a short pause.

This movement, like the others, required to be done several times; but the Zephyr lost her headway at the mouth of the river. On the return, the young oarsmen were instructed in feathering their oars. They were told precisely how to turn the hands so as to bring the oar up flatwise as it came out of the water, and how to reverse the motion when it was dipped for the stroke. They had become somewhat accustomed to handling the oars, and Uncle Ben warmly commended the proficiency they made.

Frank had headed the boat for Centre Island; and when she was abreast of it, Ben called his attention to the fact that his father and mother were both on the beach, observing the movements of the Zephyr and her crew.

It was nearly time to go ash.o.r.e; but the old sailor gave them two more lessons,--one from laying on the oars to holding water when it was desirable to check the headway, and the other to back the craft in order to stop the headway at once.

Ben declared that the club had done exceedingly well for the first day afloat, and now they must go to the spot where Captain and Mrs. Sedley were looking at them. Frank was directed to run for the cottage of the widow Weston.

"Now we must give the captain the compliment of tossing oars to him,"

said Ben on the way over. "When a boat in the navy is to meet or pa.s.s one containing a superior officer, it is the fashion to salute him with a toss of the oars exactly as you have learned to do it to-day."

The teacher explained it more in detail; and the boat headed down the lake, keeping as close to the sh.o.r.e as it was prudent to go.