South-side house and barn, and staff and boats lying on the lake
beside the door. Nine miles further down, by the help of a glass, he may
view the flag-staff at the foot of the lake, and five miles further the
East-end look-out, with its staff and watch-house. Herds of wild ponies
dot the hills, and black duck and sheldrakes are heading their young
broods on the mirror-like ponds. Seals innumerable are basking on the
warm sands, or piled like ledges of rock along the shores. The Glascow's
bow, the Maskonemet's stern, the East Boston's hulk, and the grinning ribs
of the well-fastened Guide are spotting the sands, each with its tale of
last adventure, hardships passed, and toil endured. The whole picture is
set in a silver-frosted frame of rolling surf and sea-ribbed sand."

The patrol duty of the hardy islander is thus described:

"Mounted upon his hardy pony, the solitary patrol starts upon his lonely
way. He rides up the centre valleys, ever and anon mounting a grassy hill
to look seaward, reaches the West-end bar, speculates upon perchance a
broken spar, an empty bottle, or a cask of beef struggling in the
land-wash--now fords the shallow lake, looking well for his land-range, to
escape the hole where Baker was drowned; and coming on the breeding-ground
of the countless birds, his pony's hoof with a reckless smash goes
crunching through a dozen eggs or callow young. He fairly puts his pony to
her mettle to escape the cloud of angry birds which, arising in countless
numbers, dent his weather-beaten tarpaulin with their sharp bills, and
snap his pony's ears, and confuse him with their sharp, shrill cries. Ten
minutes more, and he is holding hard to count the seals. There they lie,
old ocean flocks, resting their wave-tossed limbs--great ocean bulls, and
cows, and calves. He marks them all. The wary old male turns his broad
moustached nostrils to the tainted gale of man and horse sweeping down
upon them, and the whole herd are simultaneously lumbering a retreat. And
now he goes, plying his little short whip, charging the whole herd to cut
off their retreat for the pleasure and fun of galloping in and over and
amongst fifty great bodies, rolling and tumbling and tossing, and
splashing the surf in their awkward endeavors to escape."

And now to return to our pony, who seems to sympathize with his
fellow-traveller, for every instant he raises his head as if he would peep
into his note-book. Let me quote this of him and