"The _Flying Dutchman_," he pursued, "ain't no good for your purposes.
She's too fast. She's built to fly by, not to stop. You'd catch up with
the House-boat in a minute with her, but you'd go right on and disappear
like a visionary; and as for the Ark, she'd never do--with all respect to
Mr. Noah. She's just about as suitable as any other waterlogged
cattle-steamer'd be, and no more--first-rate for elephants and kangaroos,
but no good for cruiser-work, and so slow she wouldn't make a ripple high
enough to drown a gnat going at the top of her speed. Furthermore, she's
got a great big hole in her bottom, where she was stove in by running
afoul of--Mount Arrus-root, I believe it was called when Captain Noah went
cruising with that menagerie of his."

"That's an unmitigated falsehood!" cried Noah, angrily. "This man talks
like a professional amateur yachtsman. He has no regard for facts, but
simply goes ahead and makes statements with an utter disregard of the
truth. The Ark was not stove in. We beached her very successfully. I say
this in defence of my seamanship, which was top-notch for my day."

"Couldn't sail six weeks without fouling a mountain-peak!" sneered Wren,
perceiving a chance to get even.

"The hole's there, just the same," said Charon. "Maybe she was a
centreboard, and that's where you kept the board."

"The hole is there because it was worn there by one of the elephants,"
retorted Noah. "You get a beast like the elephant shuffling one of his
fore-feet up and down, up and down, a plank for twenty-four hours a day
for forty days in one of your boats, and see where your boat would be."