The
lateen, no doubt, observed this, for she began to play the game of
short tacks, and hoisted her mainsail, and carried on till she seemed
to sail on her beam-ends, to make up, as far as possible, by speed and
smartness for what she lost by rig in beating to windward.
"They go about quicker than we do," said Talboys.
"Of course they do; they have not got to dip their sail, as we have,
every time we tack."
This was the true solution, but Mr. Talboys did not accept it.
"We are not so smart as we ought to be. Now you go to the helm, and I
and the boy will dip the lug."
The old boatman took the helm as requested, and gave the word of
command to Mr. Talboys. "Stand _by_ the foretack."
"Yes," said Mr. Talboys, "here I am."
"Let _go_ the fore-tack"; and, contemporaneously with the order,
he brought the boat's head round.
Now this operation is always a nice one, particularly in these small
luggers, where the lug has to be dipped, that is to say, lowered, and
raised again on the opposite side of the mast; for the lug should not
be lowered a moment too soon, or the boat, losing her way, would not
come round; nor a moment too late, lest the sail, owing to the new
position the boat is taking under the influence of the rudder, should
receive the wind while between the wind and the mast, and so the craft
be taken aback, than which nothing can well happen more disastrous.
Mr. Talboys, though not the accomplished sailor he thought himself,
knew this as well as anybody, and with the boy's help he lowered the
sail at the right moment; but, getting his head awkwardly in the way,
the yard, in coming down, hit him on the nose and nearly knocked him
on to his beam-ends.
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