IN THE DUNES 1 1 



shore. Sandpipers and plovers whistle as they 

 fly over, and the lisping notes of warblers, mi- 

 grating from the sterile cold of the North, drop 

 from above. Forming a continuous background 

 to these voices is the boom and the crash of the 

 waves on the sea beach. 



All too soon he sinks into a gentle slumber, to 

 awake perchance in the night and hear the pass- 

 ing birds still calling to each other, and the surf 

 still booming, and to watch the flickering rays 

 of the aurora waving its ghostly arms overhead, 

 or a meteor as it streaks across the sky. At dawn 

 he arouses himself and finds everything about him 

 soaked in dew. The radiation into the clear 

 cloudless sky has reduced the temperature many 

 degrees with the consequent condensation of 

 moisture. Beads of dew stand out over his 

 blanket, the grass blades drip with it and pit the 

 sand below, and his frying-pan, beside the cold, 

 sand-quenched fire, is dotted with drops of water. 

 He has covered his binoculars, note-book case 

 and knife with his hat and has saved them from 

 a soaking. 



The air is crisp and cold. Tree swallows and, 



