of the river, and the wide expanse of water opened before them, the
boys were filled with delight. They had taken their seats, one on
each side of the skipper, who was at the tiller.

"I suppose you steer by the compass, Master Chambers?" Geoffrey
said. "Which is the compass? I have heard about it, always pointing
to the north."

"It's down below, young sir; I will show it you presently. We steer
by that at night, or when it's foggy; but on a fine day like this
there is no need for it. There are marks put up on all the sands,
and we steer by them. You see, the way the wind is now we can lay
our course for the Whittaker. That's a cruel sand, that is, and
stretches out a long way from a point lying away on the right there.
Once past that we bear away to the southwest, for we are then, so
to speak, fairly in the course of the river. There is many a ship
has been cast away on the Whittaker. Not that it is worse than
other sands. There are scores of them lying in the mouth of the
river, and if it wasn't for the marks there would be no sailing in
or out."

"Who put up the marks?" Lionel asked.

"They are put up by men who make a business of it. There is one
boat of them sails backwards and forwards where the river begins
to narrow above Sheerness, and every ship that goes up or down pays
them something according to her size. Others cruise about with long
poles, putting them in the sands wherever one gets washed away.
They have got different marks on them. A single cross piece, or
two cross pieces, or a circle, or a diamond; so that each sand has