nute indicates also the
ship's speed per hour, for fifty-one feet is the same part of a nautical
mile that half a minute is of an hour. The calculations are given
without allowances, merely to show the principle; and both the glass and
the line are modified in practice.

On board the Young America, ten fathoms were allowed for "stray line;"
this length of line being permitted to run out before the measuring
commenced, in order to get the chip clear of thee eddies in the wake of
the ship. The ten fathoms were indicated by a white rag, drawn through
the line; and when the officer paying out comes to this mark, he orders
the quartermaster to turn the glass, and the operation actually begins.
At every fifty-one feet (or forty-seven and six tenths, making the
allowances) there is a mark--a bit of leather, or two or more knots. The
instant the sands have all run through the glass, the quartermaster
says, "Up," and the officer notes the mark to which the line has run
out. Half and quarter knots are indicated on the line.

"Now, quartermaster, mind your eye. When the officer of the deck says,
'Turn,' you repeat the word after him, to show that you are alive,"
continued Peaks.

"Ready!" said Gordon.

"Ready!" replied Smith.

The lieutenant threw the chip into the water, and when the stray line
had run off, he gave the word to turn the glass.

"Turn!" repeated Smith.

Gordon eased off the log-line, so that nothing should prevent it from
running easily.

"Up!" shouted Smith; and Gordon stopped the line.

"Very well," added Peaks. "What's the mark?"

"Ten and a quarter," replied the officer.

"That sounds more like it. I knew this ship was going more than seven
knots. You see, young gentlemen, you can't catch flies and tend the
log-line at the same time. Now, you may try it over again."

The experiment was repeated, with the same result. Other officers and
seamen were called to the quarter-deck, and the training in heaving the
log continued, until a reasonable degree of proficiency was attained.

"Land ho!" cried the lookout on the top-gallant forecastle, at about
eleven o'clock in the forenoon.

"Where away?" called the officer of the deck.

"Dead ahead, sir."

"What is that land, Mr. Lowington?" asked Paul Kendall.

"Don't you know?"

"I'm sure I don't."

"Then you should study your map more. Look at the compass, and tell me
how she heads."

"South-east, sir," replied Paul, after looking into the binnac