I have said that there were three farewells. The first is that of the individual passengers to their individual friends. The second is that of the whole company of passengers to the company of spectators on the pier. The third is the ship's farewell to the city. Of course, for a ship to speak to a city, a very loud voice is required. So they provide her with a gun. In fact, a great steamer proceeding to sea may be considered as, in some respects, like a mighty animal. The engine is its heart; the paddle wheels are its limbs; the guns are its voice; the captain is its head; and, finally, there is a man always stationed on the lookout in the extreme forward part of the ship, who serves the monster for eyes.
Jane was quite terrified at the sound of the guns.
"O Rollo!" exclaimed she, "I wish they would not fire any more of those dreadful guns."
"I don't think they will fire any more," said Rollo. "In fact, I am sure they will not, for they have fired two now, and they never fire more than two."
Rollo was mistaken in this calculation, though he was right in the general principle that the number of guns usually discharged by a steamer going to sea, as its parting salute, is two. In this case, however, the steamer, in passing on down the river, came opposite to a place in Jersey City, where a steamer of another line was lying moored to her pier, waiting for her own sailing day. Now, as the Pacific passed by this other steamer, the men on board of the latter, having previously made every thing ready for the ceremony, fired two guns as a salute to her, by way of bidding her farewell and wishing her a good voyage. Of course, it was proper to respond to the compliment, and this called for two guns more. This made, in fact, a fourth farewell, which having been spoken, the firing was over. The Pacific, having thus taken leave of the city, and also of her sister steamer on the Jersey shore, had now nothing to do but to proceed as fast as possible down the harbor and out to sea.
The scenes which are presented to view on every hand in passing down New York Harbor and Bay are very magnificent and imposing. Ships, steamers, long ferry boats, tugs, sloops, sail boats, and every other species of water craft, from the little skiff that bobs up and down over the waves made by the steamboat swell to the man-of-war riding proudly at anchor in the stream, are seen on every hand. The shores, too, present enchanting pictures of rich and romantic beauty. There are villas and cottages, and smooth grassy lawns, and vast fortifications, and observatories, and lighthouses, and buoys, and a great many other objects, which strongly attract the attention and excite the curiosity of the voyager, especially if he has been previously accustomed only to travelling on land.
While the children were looking at these scenes with wonder and admiration, as the ship passed down the harbor, a young-looking man, who appeared to belong to the ship, came to them and told them that, if they wished to remain on deck, they had better go and sit upon the settees. So saying, he pointed to several large and heavy-looking settees, which were placed near the middle of the deck, around what seemed to be a sort of skylight. These settees were all firmly secured to their places with strong cords, by means of which they were tied by the legs to some of the fixtures of the skylights. In obedience to this suggestion, the children went and took their places upon a settee. Jane carried the cage, containing Tiger, which she had kept carefully with her thus far, and put it down upon the settee by her side. The man who had directed the children to this place, and who was a sort of mate, as they call such officers at sea, looked at the kitten with an expression of contempt upon his countenance, but said nothing. He took the camp stools which the children had left, and carried them away.
"I am sure I don't know what we are to do next," said Jane, mournfully, after sitting for a moment in silence.
"Nor I," rejoined Rollo, "and so I am going to follow uncle George's rules."
Mr. George had given Rollo this rule, as a sort of universal direction for young persons when travelling alone:
1. Do as you see other people do.
2. When you cannot find out in this or in any other way what to do, do nothing.
In accordance with this advice, Rollo concluded to sit still upon the settee, where the ship's officer had placed him, and do nothing. In the mean time, however, he amused himself in watching the ships and steamers which he saw sailing to and fro about the harbor, and in pointing out to Jane all the remarkable objects which he observed from time to time along the shores.
Among other things which attracted his attention, he noticed and watched the movements of a man who stood upon the top of one of the paddle boxes on the side of the ship, where he walked to and fro very busily, holding a speaking trumpet all the time in his hand. Every now and then he would call out, in a loud voice, a certain word. Sometimes it was port, sometimes it was starboard, and sometimes it was steady. Rollo observed that it was always one or the other of those three words. And what was still more curious, Rollo observed that, whenever the man on the paddle box called out the word, the officer on the deck, who kept walking about there all the time to and fro, would immediately repeat it after him, in a loud but in a somewhat singular tone. While he was wondering what this could mean, a gentleman, who seemed to be one of the passengers, came and sat down on the settee close by his side. Rollo had a great mind to ask him who the man on the paddle box was.
"Well, my boy," said the gentleman, "you are rather young to go to sea. How do you like it?"
"Pretty well, sir," said Rollo.
"We are going out in fine style," said the gentleman. "We shall soon be done with the pilot."
"The pilot?" said Rollo, inquiringly.
"Yes," said the gentleman. "There he is, on the paddle box."
"Is that the pilot?" asked Rollo. "I thought the pilot was the man who steered."
"No," replied the gentleman, "he is the man who gives directions how to steer. He does not steer himself. The man who steers is called the helmsman. There he is."
So saying, the gentleman pointed toward the stern of the ship where there was a sort of platform raised a little above the deck, with a row of panes of glass, like a long narrow window, in front of it. Through this window Rollo could see the head of a man. The man was standing in a recess which contained the wheel by means of which the ship was steered.
"The pilot keeps a lookout on the paddle box," continued the gentleman, "watching the changes in the channel, and also the movements of the vessels which are coming and going. When he wishes the helm to be put to the right, he calls out Starboard! When he wishes it to be put to the left, he calls out Port! And when he wishes the ship to go straight forward as she is, he calls out Steady!"
Just then the pilot, from his lofty lookout on the paddle box, called out, "Port!"
The officer on the deck repeated the command, in order to pass it along to the helmsman, "Port!"
The helmsman then repeated it again, by way of making it sure to the officer that he had heard it and was obeying it, "Port!"
There were two or three dashing-looking young men walking together up and down the dock, and one of them, on hearing these commands, called out, not very loud, but still in such a manner as that all around him could hear, and imitating precisely the tones in which the pilot's order had been given, "Sherry!"
Whereupon there was a great laugh among all the passengers around. Even the stern and morose-looking countenance of the officer relaxed into a momentary smile.