22 South Beach, 



the ocean, without any accompanying point, but on the 

 maps of 1850, 1859, and 1872, the point is shown. On 

 the old map already referred to a line of trees is depicted 

 near the mouth of the creek, and probably there was a 

 considerable wood there. Now there remains a clump 

 of cedars, and the dead post oaks are ranged in rows, and 

 branches that belonged to trees of the same kind may be 

 pulled out of the peat, that in places forms little cliffs. 

 This peat was originally formed when the present shore 

 was a part of a salt meadow, and in its way is very inter- 

 esting, for it offers a secure retreat to many a tender- 

 shelled mollusk and timid crab. Pieces of it are con- 

 stantly being broken off, and roll with ceaseless roll, until 

 they mimic the most approved forms of the baker's loaves. 

 Cedar trees may also be seen dead or dying, their trunks 

 buried a foot or more in the sand, or the soil washed away 

 from their roots, which sprawl in a ghastly fashion mid 

 dead crabs and the wrecks of things that the ocean has 

 thrown away. What a marvelous hoard of dead creatures 

 the sea casts up to the land ! Many poor mussels that 

 seemed securely anchored in the morning, ere night are 

 dying on the shore. It seems useless to throw them back> 

 for the waves, with a roar, bring them again and cast 

 them at your feet. 



On Winter tramps I meet the crows looking for cast 

 up treasures, and their success oftentimes is greater than 

 my own ; for many a fine " lady crab " or " decorator " 

 have I mourned over — sighed for the lost leg or missing 

 " apron." The gulls, too, rejoice at the death of the crab, 

 and in Winter they frequent in numbers the sandy points, 



