62 LAND OF THE LINGERING SNOW. 



and then swept round over the wreck's buried 

 side. Peering through the gaps between the tim- 

 bers, I looked down into and across a raging 

 mass of water. It was equal to a shipwreck 

 without the fear of death. Dozens of herring 

 gulls, now and then a black-backed gull, and 

 every few minutes small flocks of black ducks, 

 flew past athwart the gale. Sometimes a gull 

 would face the wind and fly against it steadily, 

 vigorously, yet never advance an inch. The 

 ducks looked as though they were flying back- 

 ward, so oddly balanced were they. After 

 nearly an hour of watching I waded ashore, fol- 

 lowed my tracks back across the sand-hills, and 

 gained a comfortable " stove-side " in the weather- 

 beaten house. The noonday meal of fat pork, 

 boiled corned beef, cabbage, clams, soda bis- 

 cuit, doughnuts, mince pie, and coffee seemed 

 in some degree a reasonable complement to the 

 gale. 



Early in the afternoon, in company with two 

 friends, a bird-watcher and a mouse-hunter, 

 I faced the storm again. We walked north- 

 ward rather than eastward, keeping within the 

 hollows of the dunes and not climbing to their 

 windy crests. Rain fell in torrents and in larger 

 drops than in the morning. It whipped into 

 foam the pale blue and green pools between the 

 sand-hills. Gusts of air struck these pools from 



