is so bluff and hearty. My father has known him for many years, and he thinks the captain one of the best skippers afloat. He has sailed the Pacific for ten years and never suffered a serious accident."
"In that case, we'll be pretty safe in sailing under him," observed Roger. "It will certainly be a long trip—four thousand miles, or more!"
"Do you know anybody else on the ship?" asked Dave.
"I do not, and I don't know much about the ship herself, excepting that she is named the Stormy Petrel. Father bought her about a year ago. She is said to be a very swift bark, and yet she has great carrying capacity."
"Will you please explain to me just what a bark is?" said Roger. "I must confess I am rather dumb on nautical matters."
"A bark is a vessel with three masts. The front mast, or foremast, as sailors call it, and the main, or middle, mast are rigged as a ship, that is, with regular yardarms and sails. The back mast, called the mizzen mast, is rigged schooner fashion, that is, with a swinging boom."
"That's plain enough. Hurrah for the Stormy Petrel! Dave, we'll be full-fledged sailors before we know it."
"We must get Billy Dill to teach us a thing or two before we go aboard," said the country boy. "Then we won't appear so green."
