48 FROM BLOMIDON TO SMOKY. 



II. 



BY SEA. 



All day long heat had quivered in the air and 

 sparkled on the sea, but now, at evening, there 

 was coolness creeping in from the ocean, past 

 crag and sand, banishing ennui and tightening 

 strong muscles as they tugged at the oars. The 

 coolness and the wind seemed to have little to 

 do with each other ; for the wind was westerly, 

 and came down river from the forest-clad moun- 

 tains, while the coolness came in from the east 

 under the deep shadow which the red cliffs of 

 Smoky cast upon the bay. Thump, thump, the 

 oars pounded forward and back upon the thole- 

 pins, and the boat moved slowly forward inside 

 the bar towards the gut. The heavy sail did us 

 no service ; merely made me more alone in the 

 twilight, as I sat in the bow, with my back to 

 the mast, and watched the waves heave under 

 us. 



"We were turning our backs to the hills now, 

 and heading straight out through the gut. On 

 the right was the lighthouse with its newly 

 lit red star glowing inside the polished lenses. 

 Above it towered the beginning of Smoky's 

 cliffs, still deep red in the twilight, or green 

 where the forest far above caught the last rays 



