WHALING IN THE BAY. II 5 



of your readers, so that all indivious com- 

 parisons of our respective efforts may be 

 avoided. 



Steaming out of the magnificent harbor 

 of Provincetown, the only harbor on a lee 

 shore within two hundred miles, we are 

 soon off the Race Point lighthouse, which 

 guards the tip end of Cape Cod. As we 

 stand out to sea, the low, sandy coast-line 

 of the back of the cape comes into full 

 view. Away off to the southeast we can 

 just make out the celebrated Highland 

 lighthouse, one of the three '' primary 

 lights " of New England. This is the first 

 light that greets the trans-atlantic voyager 

 on entering Massachusetts Bay. Five 

 miles nearer and easily distinguishable, 

 we see the terrible Peaked (pronounced 

 Picket) Hills bar, with its important life- 

 saving station. This is the most dangerous 

 point on the whole coast, and never a 

 winter passes without leaving many a 

 wreck on these insidious sand-bars, which 

 extend nearly a mile out to sea. During the 

 Revolutionary War H. M. S. " Somerset," 



