The Eight-Oared Victors: A Story of College Water Sports

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER VII

  THE FIRST TRIAL

  "Well, now we have it, what shall we do with it?"

  "Say, but it's a frail thing all right!"

  "Looks as if one good stroke would split it in two."

  "And that will hold eight men!"

  "Nine, counting the coxswain, you gump! Didn't you ever see aneight-oared shell before?"

  "Not so close at hand! Say, but it's flimsy all right."

  "Oh, I guess we'll find it stiff enough for us."

  These were only a few of the comments, and questions, propounded by thestudents of Randall as they gathered about the new shell--or, rather,the second-hand one--that had been purchased in order to give thempractice while the new outfit was being made.

  Following the enthusiastic announcement of Kindlings, as detailed inthe last chapter, the more eager of the rowing contingent, includingour four heroes, had gone to the freight depot, and, procuring a truckhad, with great care and patience, transported the boat, well swathed inburlap, to the river. Later, under the direction of Coach Lighton, theyhad attached the outriggers, gotten out the oars, given the boat anothercoat of varnish, oiled it well, and now it rested in the water alongsidethe dock, as lightly as a swan, if not as gracefully.

  "It looks more like a water-spider than anything else," commented JerryJackson, one of the Jersey twins.

  "Here! Can that!" cried Tom. "No finding fault with our boat, or we'llduck you."

  "That's what!" declared Dutch Housenlager. "Let's get in and take atry!" he proposed, starting toward the frail craft, and preparing tostep in it.

  "Here! Hold on!" cried Mr. Lighton, in accents of alarm. "That's no wayto get into a shell. Now you fellows just hold your breaths until I giveyou a few points."

  The lads--a score or more--all of whom hoped to make the eight, whileothers felt that they would be satisfied in the fours, or singles,had gathered around. They had all helped to get the shell into shape,pending the arrival of some more of the second-hand craft. Now they wereeager to try their skill.

  "It is too early to pick out the crew yet," said Mr. Lighton, "as Idon't know what any of you can do. So I suggest that you all have atry, and those that develop the most aptitude will come in for moreconsideration. Have you thought of anyone for permanent captain? Wait,though, I guess you'd better let that go until you see how you make outin rowing. And, as for the coxswain--who wants to be coxswain?" he asked.

  "Don't all speak at once," he added whimsically. "Remember that, whileit's a post of honor, the coxswain doesn't row, though by steering heassumes almost as much responsibility as all the rest put together, fora well-steered boat often means a winning one. We want a light weightfor coxswain," and he looked over the assembled group.

  No one volunteered and the coach went on:

  "Well, at the risk of seeming egotistical, I'll assume that post myself,for the time being, though I'm a bit heavy. I think I can coach youbetter from that position--at least at the start. Now then, I guesswe're ready. Whom shall we try first?"

  Once more he looked around.

  "Holly Cross," he called, and that lad stepped forward, then:"Kindlings, Phil Clinton, Tom Parsons, Frank, Sid," went on the coach.

  A pause.

  "Yes, come ahead, Housenlager," said the coach, as Dutch made an eagermove. "Let's see, that's seven. Where's Bricktop. Not here. Joe Jackson."

  "I'm afraid I'm a bit light," said the Jersey twin.

  "Well, perhaps you are. You may fill in later, though, as coxswain, orrow in one of the other boats. I guess----"

  "I'd like to row!" exclaimed someone.

  Reginald Boswell stepped forward, a smile of confidence on his face.

  "I've done considerable of it," he added, with an air of assurance.To do him justice he was a well-built lad, and those who had seen himout on the river knew he could pull a good oar. Whether he had racingqualities in him remained to be seen.

  "Very well," said the coach, quietly. "We'll give you a trial. Thatmakes the eight. Now then, who'll be for stroke? Simpson, I thinkI'll try you. You look as though you could set the pace. For numberseven--um! Parsons, you try that, though we may change later. Rememberthat number seven, who sits directly behind stroke, has almost asimportant a position, for he has to pick up the stroke promptly, and therest of the crew is dependent, in a great measure, on what number sevendoes.

  "Now, let me see. Boswell, you'll be bow oar. Phil Clinton number two,Sid Henderson at three, Housenlager at four, Woodhouse number five, andCross at six. Now I guess we're all ready. Steady the boat there, someof you, while the crew gets in."

  Dutch Housenlager once more eagerly started for the boat, and extendedhis foot to step down into it at his designated seat.

  "Wait! Wait!" cried the coach. "Don't get into a shell that way.Remember that it's almost as thin as its name indicates. Put your footlengthwise of the keelson, not athwart, or you may force your heel ortoe through the sides. Have all of you your rubber-soled shoes on?"

  "Sure," replied Dutch, a bit abashed. A glance showed that all were insufficiently regular rowing costume.

  "Now, while we're at it, I might as well tell you how properly to get ina shell," went on the coach. "You may all listen, as you can't tell whomit may fit.

  "In the first place take your oar, and, if you're to row on the side ofthe shell that happens to be nearest the float at the time, lay yourblade on the platform. If you're on the water side, lay the blade flaton the surface of the water.

  "Now get in, facing the stern, being careful to step lengthways, as Itold Housenlager. Stoop down, with a hand on either gunwale, and loweryourself into your seat. You will of course notice the seats slide backand forth, that you have outriggers instead of gunwale oarlocks, andthat there are stretchers, or loops under which to thrust your toes.

  "Once in your seat, ship your oar by thrusting the handle in throughthe outrigger oarlock from outside. Sit straight, not to one side, andsquarely face the handle of your oar, have your shoulders a bit back,and your elbows close to your flanks. I'll give you more points as we goalong.

  "Hold your oar with the outside hand close to the end of the handle,but not over the edge of it. You get more power from your outside hand,remember. The 'outside' hand, strange as it may seem, is the one nearestthe centre of the boat, and the inside one, that nearest the 'loom,'spoon, body or blade of the oar. Put the other hand not more than twoand a half inches from the outside hand. Thumbs underneath, or towardthe bottom of the boat, of course; though some men row with the thumb ofone hand in the same position as the fingers.

  "And now then, to give you brief instructions in how to row. Firstgive a full, fair reach out over your toes, with both arms perfectlystraight, dip your oar in the water--plunge it in with force. Get a goodhold on the water with the blade, and the instant it is immersed, pullwith all your might, and then follow through, as we say, with a long,firm stroke without vibration or wavering.

  "Then, with a light finish, get your oar blade clear of the watercleanly, feather light, low and quick--into the water again all togetherwith a 'chug'--another pull and--there you are--you're rowing!"

  There was silence for a moment, and then Tom remarked:

  "Sounds easy; doesn't it?"

  "Yes, and some of you will find it easy," remarked Mr. Lighton, with asmile. "Others will not. But we can tell soon who the rowers are goingto be, though that is not saying that, with practice, some of those whoseem the least fitted may not become very proficient."

  "I once belonged to a swell New York club," remarked Reginald Boswell.

  "Why did they put you out, Bossy?" asked Kindlings, with a wink at Sid.

  "They didn't--I resigned," and the rich lad shot an indignant glance athis tormentor.

  "Same thing," remarked Kindlings.

  "Now then, get into the shell, and we'll try a little spin," called thecoach, and he watched carefully as each of the eight lads followed hisinstructions more or less accurately. Some were a bit awkward, but allwere c
areful to at least step into the shell properly.

  "Push off," commanded the coxswain-coach, as he took his seat in thestern, with the tiller ropes in his hands. "You will notice that some ofyou are on what is called the stroke side--that is, with your oars onthe same side as Frank Simpson, who faces me. So when I say 'stroke sidepull,' it means that only those on that side, or at my right hand, areto row.

  "Oppositely, some of you are on what is known as the bow side, or withyour oars on the side on which sits Boswell, the bow oar. That is on myleft. Though, of course, you all sit in the middle of the boat. So whenI give orders for the stroke oars to do certain things I mean for thoseon Frank's side to obey. Now then, row, stroke oars!"

  Four blades shot back and took the water, not all at once, as theyshould have done, but fairly well for the first time. As the craftwas heading down stream, with the stroke oars nearest the float, thisman[oe]uver tended to swing the craft farther out into the river to clearthe dock.

  "Row, bows!" came the order, and the others, dipping their blades,slewed the craft around until she was straight again, and far enough outto enable a good start to be made.

  "Very good!" complimented the coach. "Now then, row all!"

  The frail shell, like some grotesque water spider, darted ahead, thewater swirling under the broad blades.

  "Hurray!" yelled the crowd along the bank and on the dock.

  "They're off!" shouted Jerry Jackson.

  "The first spin!" added his brother. "I wonder if we can turn out awinning crew?"

  "Of course we can, Joe me lad!" cried Bricktop Molloy, coming up at thatmoment. "Of course that's not sayin' it wouldn't be much better with mein the boat, but it can't be helped now. I'm a bit late," he added. "Tenthousand maledictions on Pitchfork for detainin' me. But who's that atbow?"

  "Bossy," some one told him.

  "That calf! Sure he can row though!" the Irish student added,half-admiringly, as he watched the efforts of the rich lad.

  The shell was well out in the river now, spinning along at a rapid pace.Of course it was far from being at racing speed, but even a little powersent the knife-like boat along at a great rate, so little resistance wasthere.

  "Steady all!" called Mr. Lighton, in a low voice, as he noticed atendency to splash on the part of some. "Get your oars in the water withforce. Get hold of the water all together. When you do, it will soundlike a stone falling in--a chug--a noise like a 'rotten egg', as it iscalled. Try for that. The eight oars ought to sound like a single pairwhen you learn to row in unison.

  "Pick it up a little faster, bow!" he called to Boswell.

  "This is the way I learned to row," came the retort from the bow oar.

  "Well, you'll have to unlearn some things," retorted the coach, grimly.

  "Don't look so worried, Tom," he went on a little later. "You're pickingup your stroke fairly well. Frank, a little more forward--reach out wellover your toes. That's better. Now let's hit it up a little."

  They had been rowing about twenty strokes per minute--rather slow, and,as Mr. Lighton indicated an increase, Frank followed, until they weredoing twenty-four, a substantial advance. As they rowed along, Tomglanced away from Frank's rising and falling back, and said in a lowvoice:

  "Here comes Boxer Hall!"