The Wit of the Wild 



r 



horizon made by its lonely lighthouse, and an 

 occasional gleam imagined to be the surf break- 

 ing on the reefs at the Race. All this was north- 

 ward. Southward the wooded bluffs of Gardi- 

 ner's Island, with its natural breakwater and 

 lighthouse, like a long arm reaching out between 

 the outer and the inner waters, limited the view. 

 But this was soon left behind, and as the deep in- 

 dentation of Napeaque came into view, the 

 steamer's head was turned southeastward, toward 

 Montauk, which, in the growing light, now stood 

 out plain in every bleak feature of sandy dune 

 and treeless moor. 



Now a very sharp lookout must be kept for 

 fish, and after the substantial breakfast in the 

 forecastle, I climbed half way up the shrouds. 

 Even then I could not look across Montauk, but 

 could easily see two great ponds of fresh water, 

 which nearly serve to make an island of the Point. 

 One of them, Fort Pond, was once a scene of san- 

 guinary Indian warfare between the Montauks 

 and Narragansetts, the latter being beaten only 

 by help from the Shelter Island Indians, who 

 drove the invaders to their canoes. At that 

 ^ 272 So 



