188 MONTAUK POINT. 
early date, that we pack our valise in anticipation of 
a start on the morrow. 
Our team is at the door; we bid adieu to some 
ladies of the household (of whom while writing 
these lines we have thought much, though we have, 
until now, said nothing), and, mounting by Lester’s 
side, we trot merrily over the hills, till we reach the 
deep sandy desert of the Nepeague beach. “A 
long pull, and a strong pull” for an hour, brings us 
to “terra firma” again, and rattling through the 
quaint old town of Easthampton, after a charming 
drive, we reach Sag Harbor, where a most absurdly 
diminutive steamer, of just seven-horse power, awaits 
to convey us to Greenport. We part from our host 
with sincere gratitude for the genial kindness which 
he has shown to us during our visit, and step on the 
narrow deck of the tiny craft. A voyage of thirteen 
miles, made under a full head of steam in just two 
hours and a quarter, brings us once more to the 
beautiful village of Greenport, where the cars are 
awaiting us. 
We return with a bag full of game, and the follow- 
ing general conclusions and precepts impressed upon 
our mind: In plover shooting use No. 6 shot in the 
left barrel, for the birds are of wonderful strength 
and require to be hit hard, or they will fly an immense 
distance even if “sick unto death,” and if crippled, 
will sneak, and hide, and run, and cause much loss 
of time that is precious indeed. Do not fire too 
soon ; as the flock will generally “‘ double” if allowed 
sufficient time, and then is the chance to “rake ’em 
