wouldn't come round."

  "You ought to have had room to try twice."

  "So we will next time."

  "Let's go up the Nile and turn round, and get the sails up there," saidMark. "It will be such a flapping here."

  Bevis agreed, and they pushed the boat along with the sculls a few yardsup the Nile which was quite smooth there, while at the mouth the quickwavelets dashed against the shore. The bank of the river and the treeson it sheltered them while they turned the boat's head round, andcarefully set the sails for another trial.

  "We'll have two tries this time," said Bevis, "and we're sure to do it.If we can't tack, it's no use sailing."

  When everything was ready, Mark rowed a few strokes with one oar tillthe wind began to fill the sails; then he shipped it, and sat down onthe ballast on the windward side. The moment she was outside the Nilethe splashing began, and Mark, to his great delight, felt a little sprayin his face. "This is real sailing," he said.

  "Now we're going," said Bevis, as the boat increased her speed. "Lot'ssee how much we can gain on this tack." He kept her as close to thewind as he could, but so as still to have the sails well filled anddrawing. He let the mainsail hollow out somewhat, thinking that itwould hold the wind more and draw them faster.

  "Hurrah!" said Mark; "we're getting a good way up; there's the bigsarsen--we shall get up to it."

  There was a large sarsen or boulder, a great brown stone, lying on theshore on the quarry side of the gulf, about thirty yards above thebathing-place. If they could get as high up as the boulder, that wouldmean that in crossing the gulf on that tack they had gained thirty yardsin direct course, thirty yards against the wind. To Mark it looked asif they were sailing straight for the boulder, but the boat was notreally going in the exact direction her bow pointed.

  She inclined to the right, and to have found her actual course he oughtto have looked not over the stem but over the lee bow. The lee is theside away from the wind. That is to say, she drifted or made leeway, sothat when they got closer they were surprised to see she was not so highup as the boulder by ten yards. She was off a bunch of rushes whenBevis told Mark to be ready. He had allowed space enough this time fortwo trials.

  "Now," said Bevis, pushing the tiller over to the right; "let go."

  Mark loosened the foresail, that it might not offer any resistance tothe wind, and so check the boat from turning.

  Bevis pushed the tiller over still harder, and as she had been going ata good pace the impetus made her answer the rudder better.

  "She's coming," shouted Mark. "Jam the rudder."

  The rudder was jammed, but when the bow seemed just about to face thewind, and another foot would have enabled Mark to tighten the foresail,and let it draw her quite round like a lever, she lost all forwardmotion.

  "O! dear!" said Bevis, stamping with vexation. The boat stopped amoment, and then slowly fell back. "Pull tight," said Bevis, meaningrefasten the foresheet. Mark did so, and the boat began to move aheadagain.

  "We're very close," said Mark almost directly.

  "Tack," said Bevis. "Let go."

  He tried to run her up into the wind again, but this time, having lessweigh or impetus, she did not come nearly so far round, but began to payoff, or fall back directly, and, before Mark could get a scull out,bumped heavily against the shore, which was stony there.

  "Let's row her head round," said Mark.

  "Sculls ought not to be used," said Bevis. "It's lubberly."

  "Awful lubberly," said Mark. "But what are we to do?"

  "Pull away, anyhow," said Bevis.

  Mark put out the scull, pushed her off, and after some trouble pulledtill her head came round. Then he shipped the scull, and they began tosail again.

  "We haven't got an inch," said Bevis. "Just look; there are the rails."

  They had made about twenty yards, but in missing stays twice, drifting,and rowing round, had lost it all before the boat could get right again,before the sails began to draw well.

  "What ever is it?" said Mark. "What is it we don't do?"

  "I can't think," said Bevis. "It's very stupid. That's better."

  There was a hissing and bubbling, and the boat, impelled by a strongerpuff, rushed along, and seemed to edge a way up into the wind.

  "Splendid," said Mark. "We shall get above the Nile this time, we shallget to the willow."

  A willow-tree stood on the shore that side some way up. The boatappeared to move direct for it.

  "I shall tack soon," said Bevis, "while we've got a good wind."

  "Tack now," said Mark. "It doesn't matter about going right across."

  "All right--now; let go."

  They tried again, just the same; the boat paused and came back: thenagain, and still it was of no use.

  "Row," said Bevis. "Bother!"

  Mark rowed with a scull out on the lee side, and got her round.

  "Now, just look," said Bevis. "Just look!"

  He pointed at the Nile. They had drifted so that when they at lastturned they were nearly level with the mouth of the river from whichthey had started.

  "Let me row quicker next time," said Mark. "Let me row directly. It'shateful, though."

  "It's hateful," said Bevis. "Sailing without tacking is stupid. Nobodywould ever think we were sailors to see us rowing round."

  "What's to be done?" said Mark. "Now try."

  Bevis put the tiller down, and Mark pulled her head round as quick as hecould. By the time the sails had begun to draw they had lost more thanhalf they had gained, and in crossing as the breeze slackened a littlelost the rest, and found themselves as before, just off the mouth of theNile.

  "I don't think you keep her up tight enough," said Mark, as they beganto cross again. "Try her closer. Close-hauled, you know."

  "So I will," said Bevis; and the breeze rising again he pulled themainsheet tighter (while Mark tightened the foresheet), and pushed thetiller over somewhat.

  The boat came closer to the wind, and seemed now to be sailing straightfor the quarry.

  "There," said Mark, "we shall get out of the gulf in two tacks."

  "But we're going very slow," said Bevis.

  "It doesn't matter if we get to the quarry."

  The boat continued to point at the quarry, and Bevis watched themainsail intently, with his hand on the tiller, keeping her so that thesail should not shiver, and yet should be as near to it as possible.

  "Splendid," said Mark, on his knees on the ballast, looking over thestem. "Splendid. It's almost time to tack."

  He lifted the foresail, and peered under it at the shore.

  "I say--well, Bevis!"

  "What is it?" asked Bevis. "I'm watching the mainsail; is it time?"

  "We haven't got an inch--we're going--let's see--not so far up as therushes."

  All the while the boat's head pointed at the quarry she had been makinggreat leeway, drifting with the wind and waves. The sails scarcelydrew, and she had no motion to cut her way into the wind. Instead ofedging up into it, she really crossed the gulf in nearly a straightline, almost level with the spot whence she started. When Bevis triedto get her found, she would not come at all. She was moving so slowlyshe had no impetus, and the wind blew her back. Mark had to row roundagain.

  "That's no use," he said. "But it looked as if it was."

  "She won't sail very near the wind," said Bevis, as they crossed againtowards the Nile. "We must let her run free, and keep the sailshollow."

  They crossed and crossed five times more, and still came only just abovethe mouth of the Nile, and back to the bunch of rushes.

  "I believe it's the jib," said Bevis, as they sailed for the quarry sideonce more. "Let's try without the jib. Perhaps it's the jib won't lether come round. Take it down."

  Mark took the foresail down, and the boat did show some disposition torun up into the wind; but when Bevis tried to tack she went half-way,and then payed off and came back, and they nearly ran on the railings,so much
did they drift. Still they tried without the foresail again;the boat they found did not sail so fast, and it was not the least use,she would not come round. So they re-set the foresail. Again and againthey sailed to and fro, from the shore just above the Nile to the bunchof rushes, and never gained a foot, or if they did one way they lost itthe other. They were silent for some time.

  "It's like the Bay of Biscay," said Mark.