464 Striped Bass. 



millions of insects dance in the broad rays, holding high carnival in 

 the almost midday glare. The mysterious voice repeats the invita- 

 tion, and without more ado we gather our baggage together and 

 enter a cozy sitting-room, where we proceed to make ourselves very 

 much at home. Here we find Mr. Pease, the keeper of the light, 

 who has descended from his lantern, and a gentleman from New 

 Bedford, who gives but poor encouragement in regard to the fishing. 

 He has been here for a week past, and has not caught a solitary bass 

 in all that time; but he tells us such soul-stirring yarns offish caught 

 on previous visits, and all told with a modesty which attests their 

 truth, that our spirits are restored at once. 



The inhabitants of the town of Gay Head, 

 with the exception of the light-keeper's family, 

 are of somewhat mixed blood. They are called 

 Gay Head Indians, but their features betoken a 

 liberal intercourse with a darker complexioned 

 race ; there is a flatness of the nose and an 

 inclination to curliness in the hair which denote 

 anything but an uninterrupted descent from the 

 warlike tribe that Bartholomew Gosnold found in 

 ' possession of these islands. The last one among 

 them who could build a wigwam died some years ago, and with him 

 died this invaluable secret. 



Here there is room for the moralist to make some wise reflections 

 on the vanity and evanescence of all human greatness, and to draw 

 the parallel between this people's present peaceful occupations of 

 farming and berry-picking (we even saw a young squaw who was 

 engaged in a family as seamstress), and the Puritan-roasting, scalp- 

 raising, and other cheerful and innocent diversions which obtained 

 among their ancestors. But we confess we would rather go fishing 

 than point morals, any day, and our acquaintance with this people is 

 confined to the young brave of some twelve summers whom we en- 

 gaged in the morning as our henchman, to procure and cut up bait. 



The cliffs at Gay Head are interesting alike to the artist and the 

 geologist, and possess still another interest for the angler, who has 

 to carry fifty pounds of striped bass up their steep and slippery in- 

 cline. They are of clay formation, broken and striated by the wash- 

 ings of centuries, and when lighted up by the sun present a brilliantly 



