ON THE SANDS OF IPSWICH 25 



the sun set behind the hills toward Ip- 

 swich, and the fourteenth of December 

 was a day of the past. 



At half-past five o'clock on the follow- 

 ing morning we made our way out on to 

 the moonlit sandhills, whose weird undu- 

 lating outlines were yet indistinct in the 

 growing Hght ; occasionally we would catch 

 a glimpse of Ipswich Light toward the 

 north, gilding the highest dunes. Stand- 

 ing in a pit dug the day before in the sand, 

 we waited to see what the advancing dawn 

 would bring us of interest. The tide w^s 

 far out, and the breaking of waves on 

 the distant, unseen bar, the crying of gulls 

 and the cawing of passing crows sounded 

 wild and uncanny. It was terribly cold. 

 By half-past six o'clock the east was all 

 aglow, and at seven the sun appeared 

 above Cape Ann. A large flock of bunt- 

 ings flew restlessly about far up the beach, 

 and two horned larks played their game 

 of hide and seek around the tufts of with- 

 ered grass. We saw nothing of the Ips- 

 wich sparrows. Following the path that 

 runs back to the house we heard the call 

 of a solitary flicker, — certainly a strange 

 place for him to be spending the winter. 



