wheel and opened wide the throttle, running the 

 Hippocampus at full speed toward a great bight 

 that lay to our left, less than a mile away. 



The bight was well-known to us, and beloved 

 by us both; many delightful days had we spent 

 searching among its rock-strewn shallows and sein- 

 ing along its sandy shores; many, too, were the re- 

 vealing and prolific hours we passed observing the 

 ways of some strange or hitherto unnoted member 

 of its varied population. Here, more so perhaps 

 than in any other restricted place around these 

 parts, were formed the greatest number of my own 

 acquaintances with creatures not easily encoun- 

 tered outside the actual body of water composing 

 the Sound. It was here, in fact, that I first met 

 with that rarity in these ranges, the little sea- 

 horse, Hippocampus, for whom our boat was 

 named. It was an ideal collecting ground; and as 

 such, its chief interest, of course, was a practical 

 one. Yet such was its charm, derived in part from 

 its sequestered situation and in part from the pic- 

 turesque formation of its shore-line, that this alcne 

 would have been sufficient to lure us often to the 

 spot. 



Nor was it less attractive at night. Then par- 



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