62 SOUTHERN ESTUARIES 



positive beauties which the entrance to the harbour 

 disclosed, though expecting that substitute for beauty 

 picturesqueness which seems inseparable from 

 harbour scenery. 



As we came slowly in over the blue water, and 

 passed over the bar, our surprise and admiration 

 increased. On the right was a spit of sand-hills, 

 covered with masses of purple heather and a few wind- 

 blown pines. To the left lay Brownsea Island, with 

 its castle and trees ; to the left a wide inland sea, 

 lying between Brownsea Island and the long sweep of 

 Purbeck, with the keep of Corfe Castle standing up 

 far off, black against the evening sun. In front lay 

 the way up to Poole town, with quaint ports and sea- 

 marks, and one or two pretty wooden sailing vessels 

 dipping down with the tide. On either side of Poole 

 the sea seemed to run inland till lost in heather and 

 pines. 



It was the first of August, the opening day for 

 wild-fowl shooting, and bare-legged fishermen were 

 standing on one or two shingle-banks just left by 

 the tide, firing at flocks of ring-dotterels which were 

 shifting about the harbour. We also caught the 

 infection, and getting the yacht's dingy, rowed off 

 towards the setting sun up the branch of the estuary. 

 There is a singular charm in such an excursion into 

 unknown waters. Even the minor problems of navi- 

 gation, when a choice has to be made between different 

 channels among thousands of acres of slob and sea- 

 weed-covered ooze, serve to remind one of the diffi- 



