"What do you think of her masts?" said one. "It certainly ain't usual for steamships to have such large sails."
"Depend upon it," said a broad, red-faced quartermaster, " that yon craft reckons more on her masts than her engine. She hasn't all that topsail for nothing. To me it is clear enough the Forward is bound for the Arctic or Antarctic Seas, where great ice mountains shut out the wind rather more than suits a strong, brave ship."
"You must be right, Master Cornhill," said a third sailor; "and have you noticed the bow, what a straight line it makes to the sea?"
"Ay! and more than that, it is sheathed with cast-steel as sharp as a razor, which would cut a three-decker in two if the Forward fell foul of it sideways at full speed," replied Cornhill.
"That it would," added a Mersey pilot, "for she can make fourteen knots an hour easily with her screw. It was wonderful to see how she cut through the water on her trial trip. Take my word for it, she's a good runner, and no mistake."
"Besides," said Cornhill, "do you see the size of the helm-post?"
"Yes; but what does that prove?"
"That proves, my boys," said Cornhill, in a disdainful, self-satisfied manner, "that you can neither see nor think; that proves that it was a great matter to give full play to the rudder, a very necessary thing in the frozen seas of the north."
"Right, right," said the sailors.
"And, what's more," continued one of them, " the loading of the ship confirms your opinion. I had it from Clifton, who is one of her men, that she is taking provisions for five years, and coals too. That is all the cargo; nothing but coals and provisions, and great bales of woolen clothing and seal-skins."
"That settles it, of course," replied Cornhill. " But you say you know Clifton—hasn't he told you where they are going?"
"He doesn't know himself; he is in perfect ignorance. All the crew have been engaged like that. Where he's going, he'll hardly know himself before he's there."
