XII 

 MYSTERIES OF THE MARSH 



IN another place on the coast one of my 

 windows looked across a marsh to the ocean 

 half a mile away. This was an outlook of 

 which I never tired. The marsh was always 

 beautiful and never twice alike, and the sea 

 at that distance was peculiarly interesting 

 because of its curious variations of sound. 

 Sometimes it roared above everything else ; 

 again I would hear it from far off one side 

 as if it had retired down the coast miles 

 away. Occasionally I could not discover any 

 direction, but it seemed to moan under its 

 breath as if all its life had been withdrawn 

 to a great distance, and the waves near us 

 were asleep. Sometimes it was silent as a 

 millpond. 



Almost as interesting as the sea was a 

 dweller, or rather a visitor to the marsh. 

 For here was a mystery. Every evening 

 about seven o'clock a great bird, larger than 



