The Augusta Ramsay had all the sails that the Industry had and, besides those sails, she had the sails that belong on the mizzenmast: the cross-jack and the mizzentopsail and the mizzentopgallantsail and the mizzenroyal and the mizzenskysail and all the mizzenstaysails. But the Industry couldn't set those sails on the mizzenmast, because she didn't have any mizzenmast. And the two vessels leaned a good deal and the foam piled up under their bows and they just flew out of Boston Bay into Massachusetts Bay and out past Provincetown into the great ocean; but neither gained on the other any worth mentioning.

And night came and they didn't take in any of the sails that they had set, but they sailed on, in the moonlight. Captain Sol had to keep his crew pretty busy, changing the sails so that the wind would blow on them the right way, and so did Captain Henry. It is a good deal of a job to change these many sails. But morning came, and there was the Augusta Ramsay right abreast of them. And the wind increased, so that the two vessels leaned a great deal; but Captain Sol said that he guessed he could carry his sail as long as Captain Henry could carry his, and he wasn't going to be the first to take in sail. But the sailors didn't like to hear Captain Sol say that because they knew that it meant hard work for them.

They sailed on, that way, for a long time, and they never lost sight of each other. But, first, the Augusta Ramsay would be a little way ahead and then the Industry would gain a little and go ahead of the Augusta Ramsay. Then, one day, it began to blow harder and harder and Captain Sol knew that they would have a storm. And he got a little worried because he was afraid that he might have to take in some sail before Captain Henry did. For he wouldn't risk his ship just because he had said that he wasn't going to be the first to take in sail. And he looked, through his glass, at the Augusta Ramsay, to see if she took in any of her sails, and he waited as long as he dared to wait. Then, just as he was going to give it up, and take his glass down, he saw the sailors on the Augusta Ramsay going up on the yards. And he was very glad of it, and he gave orders for his sailors to reduce sail. And the sailors were glad, too, and they swarmed up aloft and took in the sails in a jiffy.

The storm lasted for three days and two nights. The wind blew harder and harder and the waves got higher and higher and the rain came down in sheets. Then it would stop raining, for a little while, and the wind would blow harder than ever, while the flying clouds seemed to be no higher than the masthead. Then it would begin to rain again. But they didn't lose sight of the Augusta Ramsay completely, although, at times, she was hidden by the rain and, for one whole day, they didn't see her at all. But she was there on the next morning. And the Industry, all through that hard blow, was sailing under double-reefed topsails, and so was the Augusta Ramsay. And double-reefed topsails is very little sail, compared to the enormous spread of canvas that the vessels had set when they left Boston.

At last, after dark of the third day, the wind began to be less and the clouds to be more broken, and Captain Sol knew that the storm was over. And he made up his mind that he would get out of that place just as soon as he could, for he thought that, just as likely as not, it would be calm there for some time. And he thought that the sooner he got out of any place where there was likely to be no wind, the better. So he didn't go to bed, but he watched the weather, and he waited. Finally, he thought that the Industry could stand a little more sail.

"Call all hands," he said to the mate, "and get sail on her, little by little. We don't want to loaf around here."

It was two o'clock in the morning, and the mate thought that the sailors would grumble; but he didn't care. "Aye, aye, sir," he said.

And he called all hands, and they came up on deck, grumbling at the captain for routing them up at that time, to make sail, when it was blowing hard enough, anyway. But the mate pretended not to hear them, and he ordered some of the sailors aloft. And the sailors that went aloft shook out the reefs in the topsails; and the sailors that were on deck pulled away at the halliards and at the sheets, but they didn't shout out any chanty.

And the Industry began to sail faster. And pretty soon Captain Sol had the men shake out some other sails and hoist them. And the wind was less, and a star showed. And Captain Sol had the men set more sails, so that the vessel had all that she could stand. Then, pretty soon, more stars showed, and the wind kept on going down. And, by daylight, he had nearly all the sails set, and nothing was to be seen of the Augusta Ramsay. And Captain Sol chuckled to himself, and went down to bed.

He didn't sleep very long but just took a little nap and then he went on deck again. There were two things that bothered him a little, besides the sailing of his vessel, which couldn't be said to bother him at all; for he always did the very best he could. Nobody can do any more than that. And, when he had done the very best he could, Captain Sol didn't worry about what would happen; which was very sensible on Captain Sol's part. And the two things that bothered him were, first, where the Augusta Ramsay was; and, second, the disposition of his crew. It seemed to him that they were likely to make trouble. Captain Sol wasn't afraid of trouble, but he knew that the willingness of the crew made a great difference in the speed that could be got out of a vessel in a long voyage. So he made up his mind that he would attend to the second matter first.

Captain Sol had all hands called; and the men came up unwillingly, and they were very cross with Captain Sol because they thought that he had called them to change the sails again. And they had been up nearly the whole of three nights and wanted to sleep. But Captain Sol called them all aft, and he stood by the railing that was at the edge of the quarter deck and he made them a little speech. He said that the men must know that there was a race between the Augusta Ramsay and the Industry, and that each vessel was trying to be the first to get to the far country, where they both were bound. It was worth something to his owners to have the Industry get there first, and he would promise the crew five dollars apiece if they beat the Augusta Ramsay, even if they only beat her by an hour. And, for every day that they beat her, up to two weeks, he would promise them two dollars apiece. He didn't care about beating her by more than two weeks, because he thought that he would have his cargo aboard, all ready to carry back to Boston, in that time. But there must be no skulking and no unwillingness. Anything of that kind would be severely dealt with, and he would not hesitate to put any man in irons for the rest of the voyage who didn't jump to his duty at the word.

And, when Captain Sol had finished his speech, the men all shouted out a cheer for him and another cheer for Captain Jonathan and Captain Jacob. And they weren't grumbly any more but they were glad. And Captain Sol turned away and looked through his glass to see if he could make out the Augusta Ramsay. But he couldn't see any sign of her.

So Captain Sol sailed the Industry across the wide ocean and down around the Cape of Good Hope and across the Indian Ocean; and he carried sail until it almost cracked the masts, and his crew were as willing as they could be and nobody skulked. But, all that time, there was no sign of the Augusta Ramsay. And they sailed into the wide river and anchored; and Captain Sol sold the things he had brought and bought the things to carry back, and still there was no sign of the Augusta Ramsay.

And he loaded the Industry with the things that he had bought, and he hoisted his anchor and sailed away down the river. And, just as he came to the ocean, there was the Augusta Ramsay sailing in.

Captain Sol had the sails fixed so that the ship wouldn't go ahead and so did Captain Henry. And Captain Sol had a boat lowered and sailors got in, to row it, and he went over to make a call on Captain Henry. And he found that the Augusta Ramsay had been caught in a calm place, after that storm, because Captain Henry hadn't been willing to rout his men out at two o'clock in the morning; and she hadn't been able to get out of that calm place for nearly two weeks, but had stayed there, with her sails flapping against the masts, for all that long time. And Captain Henry said that it was a joke on him and bade Captain Sol good bye and wished him a good voyage home. But Captain Sol thought that it was no joke for the owners of the Augusta Ramsay.

Then he got into his boat again and went back to his ship. And the Augusta Ramsay fixed her sails so that she would go ahead, and so did the Industry. And they sailed away from each other; but Captain Sol had taken Captain Henry's letters.

And that's all.



THE PILOT STORY

Once upon a time there was a wide river that ran into the ocean, and beside it was a little city. And in that city was a wharf where great ships came from far countries. And a narrow road led down a very steep hill to that wharf, and anybody that wanted to go to the wharf had to go down the steep hill on the narrow road, for there wasn't any other way. And because ships had come there for a great many years and all the sailors and all the captains and all the men who had business with the ships had to go on that narrow road, the flagstones that made the sidewalk were much worn. That was a great many years ago.

The wharf was Captain Jonathan's and Captain Jacob's and they owned the ships that sailed from it; and, after their ships had been sailing from that wharf in the little city for a good many years, they changed their office to Boston. After that, their ships sailed from a wharf in Boston.

The channel into Boston Harbor was crooked and narrow and a captain had to know it very well to be able to take a ship in safely. A good many captains didn't like to risk it, even if they thought they did know the channel pretty well. So there were some men who made it their business to take vessels out of the harbor, that wanted to go out, and to bring vessels in, that wanted to come in. Those men were called harbor pilots, or just pilots. And they knew just exactly how much water they would find at each place; and they knew the whole harbor so well that they could tell, almost, where every stone, of the size of a hat, was on the bottom of it. In the year 1820, John Wilson was one of these pilots, and he lived at Winthrop. Winthrop was a convenient place for a pilot to live in, for it is on a sort of a point that bends around, so that it is outside of Boston Harbor.

Now John Wilson's house was where he could see, from the windows of a room upstairs, far out to sea. He could have seen Provincetown, on the end of Cape Cod, if it hadn't been so far away that it was hidden by the roundness of the world; and there was nothing, except the ocean and the ships that sailed on it, between him and Europe. On clear days he was apt to sit at his upper window, looking out over the ocean and smoking. And whenever he saw the upper sails of some vessel beginning to show, far away, over the waters of Massachusetts Bay, he would hurry off to his sloop, that always lay ready at the wharf, just below; and he would tell the man who was pottering about on the sloop, and who was named Joe, that there was a vessel coming up and that he had better stir his stumps. For he thought that it was the ship Dawn. Or, perhaps, it was the brig Sally Ann or the Coromandel, or the ship Pactolys, or the Savannah, or the Augusta Ramsay, or the brig Industry. For John Wilson knew every vessel that sailed from Boston so well that he could tell a vessel's name as soon as he caught sight of her upper sails.

Then Joe would hurry and John Wilson would hurry and they would sail down to meet that vessel. And John Wilson, if he was the first pilot to get to the vessel, which he generally was, would climb aboard, leaving Joe to sail the sloop alone; and he would take command of the vessel and pilot her safely in, through the channel, to her wharf.

But, if it was foggy or hazy, so that John Wilson could not see the sails of vessels far off, over the water, even with his long glass, he and Joe would sail back and forth before the entrance to Boston Harbor. Sometimes there would be three or four pilot boats sailing back and forth, waiting for the ships to come in; and, when they sighted a ship, it would be a race to see which boat would get to her first.

One afternoon, in the late summer, John Wilson sat at his upper window, smoking and looking out at the gulls. His long glass lay on another chair beside him, all ready to look through; and, once in a while, he took it up and looked, very carefully, all along the edge of the ocean. But, no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't see any ships. There was a fisherman going out, but fishermen didn't take pilots, and, if they had, it was too late, anyway. And he saw another small vessel coming in, pretty soon after the fisherman had gone. It was the Portland packet. She didn't take a pilot, either, but her captain was a pilot.



John Wilson was getting tired of sitting by that window, although it was a very pleasant place on a summer afternoon. He got up and stretched sleepily, for it was sleepy work sitting there, doing nothing. Then he thought that he might as well take a last look through the glass, before he went, and he lifted it and held it against the frame of the window and looked.

"Hello!" he said to himself. "The skysails and royals of something. It's a brig. By the cut of her sails, she'll be the Industry. Haven't heard of her since she was spoken, going out, five months ago. She must have made a quick passage."

Then he put down the glass and hurried down to the sloop.

"Hurry up, Joe," he said. "The old Industry's coming in. And she's in a hurry, too. That Cap'n Sol's carrying royals and skysails. That's all that showed. Like enough he's got stu'n'sails on her, too. He seems to want to get in to-night; and we've got to hurry, for she'll keep right on to his wharf, pilot or no pilot."

"He hasn't been reported at Manila," said Joe.

"No," said John Wilson, "he hasn't. But he'll report his own arrival there. There's few can carry sail with Cap'n Sol."



The sloop was on her way, by that time, out to the channel and down to the bay. She was rather fast, for such a small vessel, for the pilot who had the fastest boat had the best chance; and she had a good deal of sail for a boat of her size. But she couldn't sail as fast as the Industry. She met the Industry about five miles out in the bay, and John Wilson saw that Captain Sol had put a flag in the rigging, to show that he wanted a pilot.

Captain Sol had the sails fixed so that the Industry wouldn't go ahead very fast, and the sloop came alongside and John Wilson scrambled aboard. The sloop wasn't tied to the ship at all, and she didn't stay alongside as long as a minute; then she was sailing off again, towards Boston. For Joe had to take John Wilson home again after he had got a vessel piloted safely in to the wharf that she was going to.

Captain Sol met John Wilson when he came on board and shook hands with him.

"Hello, John," he said. "I hoped we should get you."

"Hello, Sol," said John Wilson. "You haven't been reported at Manila, yet, and you have no business to be here."

"So?" asked Captain Sol. "Three ships sailed from Manila for Boston ahead of me. They'll be along in the course of time." He smiled to himself at the thought of his having passed those ships. But Captain Sol didn't generally say much, and John Wilson didn't ask him anything more about those ships. But he made up his mind that he would keep a sharp lookout for them. "Get us in as soon as you can, John," continued Captain Sol. "I have some business that I want to get done before dark."

"All right," said John Wilson; and he began to give his orders.

The sails were fixed so that the ship would go ahead again as fast as she was going before. They passed the pilot boat, with Joe sailing it all alone, and then John Wilson told the sailors to begin to take in sail. They had so much sail spread that it would take the sailors all the time, until they got to the wharf, to take it in, for they had reached the beginning of the channel between the islands.

And they sailed in, past the islands, and John Wilson had the ship steered so that she went in the deepest part of the channel. And they came up to the wharf, gently, and the ship was tied to the wharf with great ropes; and there was a little of the afternoon left. So Captain Sol went to attend to the business that he wanted to do. But John Wilson went to the office of Captain Jonathan and Captain Jacob and they paid him some money for piloting the Industry up the harbor.

Then he went back to the wharf and watched the sailors, who were busy on the Industry, and he waited for Joe to come, with the sloop, to take him back to Winthrop. And, in about half an hour, there was the sloop. And John Wilson got aboard and sailed away for Winthrop.

And that's all.



THE DRIFTWOOD STORY

Once upon a time there was a wide river that ran into the ocean, and beside it was a little city. And in that city was a wharf where great ships came from far countries. And a narrow road led down a very steep hill to that wharf, and anybody that wanted to go to the wharf had to go down the steep hill on the narrow road, for there wasn't any other way. And because ships had come there for a great many years and all the sailors and all the captains and all the men who had business with the ships had to go on that narrow road, the flagstones that made the sidewalks were much worn. That was a great many years ago.

The river and the ocean are there yet, as they always have been and always will be; and the city is there, but it is a different kind of a city from what it used to be. And the wharf is slowly falling down, for it is not used now; and the narrow road down the steep hill is all grown up with weeds and grass.

Many times, in the long ago, the brig Industry had sailed from that wharf, on voyages to far countries, and had come back again to the wharf, bringing spices and tea and sets of china and pretty little tables inlaid with ivory and ebony, and camel's hair shawls, and cloth of goat's hair, and logs of teak-wood to make things of, and many another beautiful thing. And, when Captain Jonathan and Captain Jacob moved their office to Boston, she had sailed from a wharf in Boston to that far country. Captain Solomon was the captain of the Industry then. And Captain Solomon married and had sons, and when those sons were beginning to get old enough to go to sea, Captain Solomon stopped being a captain and became a farmer. For he didn't want his sons to go to sea, and he thought that, if he had a farm, away from the salt ocean, they wouldn't go. So he bought the farm that it tells about in the Farm Stories. But little Sol ran away to sea, just the same; and he got to be the captain of the Industry.

And Captain Jonathan got to be an old man, and he died peacefully. And still the brig Industry sailed to that far country and sailed back again. And the years passed, and Captain Jacob got to be a very old man, and he died, too; and Lois was an old woman, and little Jacob, her son, had grown to be a man, and little Lois, her daughter, had grown up and married. And still the brig Industry sailed on her voyages and came back again, but she was getting to be old, too.



And, at last, after more years had passed, the Industry was so old that she needed to have a lot done to her to make her safe. And her owners decided that it wasn't worth while to rebuild an old vessel, but they would build a new one instead; for they didn't build the kind of ship that the Industry was any more, but they built a kind that they thought was better and faster. So, when she got in the next time from that far country, they told her captain what they had decided to do. That captain wasn't Captain Sol. He didn't go to sea any more, but he lived in Boston.

So, when she had been unloaded, the captain and some sailors sailed her down to the wide river that the little city was beside. It took them only about a half a day to go there from Boston, and the Industry sailed into the river for the last time, and up to the wharf that was all falling down. And the men tied her to the wharf with great ropes. Many times had she been tied up at that wharf, and she had loaded there and had been unloaded there many times. But she now would never again go sailing out of the river into the great ocean.

And the captain went to the riggers of ships, and he had hard work to find them; but at last he found some riggers of ships that were left, and he told them to come to the wharf and take the sails and the yards off the Industry, and the masts out of her, because she was going to be broken up. And the riggers came, and they took the sails off the yards and they took the yards down; and they took down the topmasts, and they took off the bowsprit, and they took out the great masts that had felt the strain of the winds blowing on the sails for thousands and thousands of miles. And the Industry was nothing but an old hulk lying at an old wharf that was falling down.

Then some junk men came, and they stripped off the copper sheets that were on her bottom, and they took the iron work out of her, and they carried the copper sheets and the iron to their shop. Then they untied the great ropes which held the hulk to the wharf, and they towed all that was left of the Industry to a shallow place, up the wide river, and there they pulled it high up on the shore. And some more men came and began stripping off the sheathing of thin boards that had been put on outside of her planking, and they sawed this sheathing up until it was small enough to go in a fireplace, and they split it up into small sticks. For the sheathing, that has been next to the copper sheets and has gone in the salt water for so many years, would burn with pretty green and blue flames and little flashes of red. And then they began to take off her thick planking of oak.

Lois's son, that had been little Jacob, was Squire Jacob when he had grown up. And he heard of it, and he came to see the end of the Industry. And, when he saw the remains of the ship lying there on the shore, and saw where the men had taken the planks off, so that her great ribs showed, like a skeleton, the sight filled his heart with sadness. He thought of the voyage that he had made in her, when he was a little boy, and he thought of the many times that she had sailed to that far country and had always brought the sailors and the captains back safe; and he stood there, looking, for a long time. But, at last, he turned away, and he went to the men who had the sheathing all sawed and split into small sticks, and he bought that sheathing, every bit of it. And he told the men that he would like to have the rudder and one or two of the ribs. And the men said that they would be glad to give him the rudder and some of the ribs.

Then he went back to the little city, and he found an old sailor who had sailed in the Industry. That sailor was an old man and he didn't go to sea any more, he was so old; but he lived in a nice kind of a place that was for old sailors to live in, and he liked to whittle things with his knife. He could whittle pretty well, for sailors are great whittlers. And Lois's son, Squire Jacob, told this old sailor about the Industry, and how he had bought all the sheathing that there was, and that he would have the rudder and some of the ribs. And he asked the sailor if he could manage to make a model of the brig Industry out of the rudder, and fit it with sails and everything just as the Industry really had been. And the sailor was sorry when he heard about it, and he said he would like nothing better than to make the model, and it should be exactly like the Industry, down to the smallest block and the least rope. And he said that he would make the model for nothing if he might have the rest of the rudder to make a model for himself, too.

So Squire Jacob was glad, and he told the old sailor that he could have the rest of the rudder and welcome, and that he must come up sometimes and sit in front of his fire when the sheathing was burning; for he had a good deal of it, and it would be a long time before it was all burned up. And the old man thanked him and said that he would be glad to come.

Then Squire Jacob went to some cabinet makers, and he said that he would like to have them make a chair for him out of the ribs of the Industry. It would be an arm-chair and would have a picture of the brig carved in the wood up at the top of the back. And the cabinet makers understood, and they said that they would make him the arm-chair.



And at last the arm-chair was all done, and the model was almost done; but the arm-chair was done first. And, one evening, Squire Jacob was sitting in the arm-chair before the fire, and in his hand he held the little model of the Industry, that an old sailor had carved, with his jack-knife, for his Christmas present when he went on that voyage to far countries as a little boy. The hull of that little model was made of ebony and the masts and spars were little ebony sticks; and the sails were of ivory, scraped thin, and the ropes were silk thread. And the sails were bulging, as if the wind was filling them and making them stand out from the yards. But the ivory sails were yellow with age, and the silk thread was all yellow and rotten.

That little model was only about three inches long, so that it rested easily on Squire Jacob's hand. He sat before the fire, looking at the little model, and his wife sat in another chair beside him. And their daughter, who was named Lois, was sitting in a low chair by her mother. That Lois was pretty nearly grown up. And Squire Jacob remembered, and he told his wife and his daughter Lois the things that it tells about in the Christmas Story.

When he had finished telling the Christmas Story, the door-bell rang; and Lois went to the door, and she came back and said that an old man was out in the hall, but he wouldn't come in. And Squire Jacob went out to the hall, and he came back with the old sailor who had carved the model of the brig Industry out of the real rudder of the ship. He had that model in his arms. And he set the model that he had brought in the middle of the mantel, over the fire, and sat down in the arm-chair. And Squire Jacob didn't say anything, but he handed him the little model, made of ebony and ivory.

The old sailor took the little model, and it made him remember many things; and he remembered about the old man who had carved that model and about that very voyage, for he had been one of the crew of the Industry when she went on that voyage to far countries and carried little Jacob and little Sol. And he told some stories about that sailor and that voyage that Squire Jacob was very glad to hear.

They all sat there for a long time, but they didn't say much. And the old sailor looked from the little model of the Industry, in his hand, to the big one, that was on the mantel before him; and Squire Jacob took some of the sheathing of the real Industry and put it on the fire. And it blazed up with flames that were all green and blue, and red.

"A many miles o' ocean 's in that flame," said the old sailor, "a many miles."

"And a good ship," said Squire Jacob.

"That she was," said the old sailor. "A good ship."



And they watched the sheathing burning, and Squire Jacob thought that he saw pictures in the flames. At first he saw a ship all alone on the great ocean, and nothing could be seen from the ship but miles of tossing water; and the flame died out. Then another flame blazed up, and Squire Jacob saw a great river with a city on the bank, and the brig Industry was anchored in the river. And many little boats were rowed from the city to the ship and back again. The little boats were loaded with tea and spices and camel's-hair shawls and many other beautiful things. And he saw Captain Solomon on the ship; and that flame died out. And another flame blazed up, and he saw the Industry just coming up the river and tying up at the wharf that the narrow road led down to. And that flame died out quickly, and the piece of sheathing only glowed, for it was all burned to ashes, and the ashes dropped down where the other ashes were.

And that's all of this book.



THE SANDMAN: HIS SEA STORIES

These stories give you a good picture of life on an old-time sailing vessel. When you want to look up some special point, this index will show you the right page.

Albatross, 187-193

Christmas, on shipboard, 121, 136

Communication, 141-142, 144, 293

Driftwood, 333-334

Elephants, 160-169

Equator, 122

Fish, porpoise, 47-55; flying fish, 71, 76-84; shark, 107-119

Food, 54, 84, 125, 133-136, 143

Lighthouses, 219-221

Ocean, 197-198; sounding, 145-151; seaweed, 64-73

Selling and trading, 155, 245, 250-251

Transportation: bullock carts, 159; sailing ships, 3, 32, 36-42, 45-46, 86-101, 128, 133, 143-144, 331-338

Weather, 211-216; barometer, 193; storm, 7-30

THE END