S14 
FOREST -AND STREAM. 
[Ai^L i8, 1903. 
scape. There we were with land within a hundred yards 
in everj' direction, no sign of a definite way in or out, 
the water like a mill pond and as clear as crystal, and 
apparently surrounded by the forest primeval. Through 
a vista between two diminutive isles we could see a 
small clearing with a neat, old-fashioned white farm 
house — the only building in sight save for a weather 
beaten fishing shanty on a near-by point. Not a beach in 
view, the rocks rose straight out of the water six or 
eight feet and the trees grew on their very edges. The 
only landing was a sloping rock with a path leading 
away among the pines. Now and then we heard the 
whirring of a mowing machine at some distant field, but 
could see no signs of a farm in the direction whence 
the sound came. The whole effect was supremely restful 
and dreamy. 
When I had had my fill of gazing I took the tender to 
do a bit of exploring. I would row up a cove and when 
I thought I had exhausted its beauties a bend would open 
out a new bit of enchanted land. All the while I could 
hear no sound but those of the forest and the drops from 
my oars and see nothing but water, rocks, trees and sky. 
At what I had supposed to be the head of one cove I 
found a small steep rapid leading into still another. I 
shot down through the rapid and then landed on some 
shelving rocks. Near at hand was a stretch of black 
mud — by hopping from rock to rock over this area I 
traversed it and on my return picked up half a bucketful 
of clams which lay on the surface in surprising profusion. 
On getting back to the dinghy I set out to return to the 
Armorel. I had much difficulty in rowing up the rapid, 
but by putting my back to the work finally got through. 
This rapid is rather peculiar so I will describe it. It is 
about twenty feet wide and only forty long, in which 
distance the water dropped more than a foot. It is 
caused by the fact that when the flood tide sets up the 
outer cove the level of the water rises faster there than 
in the inner cove because the latter is supplied only 
through this narrow sort of gut. The result is that the 
water simply falls in. At high tide the level of the water 
in both coves becomes the same. Then when the tide 
ebbs the outer cove empties quicker than the inner one, 
so that the water tumbles over itself to get out. It is a 
reversible rapid, good either side out and warranted not 
to wear, tear or fade. 
Once back to the Armorel I rinsed the clams in a 
bucket of salt water and then went in for a swim myself. 
The water proved to be delightfully warm, so that I 
stayed in for some time. Then I climbed out and lay 
full length on the deck and had a jolly good sun bath. 
Having dressed I went ashore in the dinghy to make 
repairs. When rowing up one of the coves I had been so 
occupied in admiring the scenery that I failed to observe 
where I was going, so ran plump into a rock, smashing a 
hole in her bow just above the water line. She was a 
fine little boat, light, easy to row or tow, and of consider- 
able carryig capacity, but altogether too flimsy for a 
Maine trip, being built, canoe fashion, of very thin cedar 
planking covered with canvas painted white. Reaching 
shore I pulled her out on the rocks, melted some tar in 
a big spoon and ran it into the hole. Then I took two 
thicknesses of linen soaked in varnish and fastened them 
on with some liquid fish glue. The patch was a bit un- 
sightly but made her perfectly tight. Incidentally the 
accident emphasized the advantage of carrying a small 
stock of tar, white lead, glue, etc. 
That night we had a grand feast on clam bouillon, 
steamed clams with melted butter, etc. We two fellows 
devoured the half bucketful of clams and sighed for more. 
Put the mosquito netting over the main companionway 
and fore hatch for the night, but did riot hear a mosquito. 
I must mention an experience which Albert had with 
one of the Primus stoves while I was ashore repairing 
the tender. When the alcohol burnt out and he started 
to pump, he forgot to close the air-valve and so was soon 
pumping kerosene, instead of gas, out of the jet. It all 
blazed up and completely rattled him. There was no 
danger since the stove sits inside of a galvanized iron 
cuddy, but he valiantly grasped it and rushing on deck 
thrust the whole business overboard. He put out the fire 
but I had to take the whole stove to pieces and clean it 
before I could make it work once more. 
Before turning in for the night we took a row looking 
in to Brickyard and Rich's coves and landing on one of 
the islands — it was about eighty feet long by forty feet 
wide, and like all the others, was thickly wooded. The 
only signs of life we saw during our row were a few 
dories moored in the cove south of Rich's and a few 
shanties on the shore where there was a small clearing in 
which a cow grazed contentedly. No one was about. 
Finally we saw a man sculling down the bay — this strange 
sight made us feel like Robinson Crusoes discovering 
Friday's footprints. We did not get within hailing dis- 
tance of the apparition. 
Thursday, July 31. — ^The morning dawned bright and 
still. After a delicious breakfast of plums, grape-nuts 
with cream, scrambled eggs and toast, we got under way 
at 7.57 A. M. There was almost no wind, so that we 
had to tow out the bight. When south of Snow's I. we 
picked up a light air which blew straight up the bay. 
We decided to go out by the west passage so as to have 
seen the whole bay. Stood past Centre I. and ran right 
up to the shore before tacking ship. Like all the shore 
in the vicinity it was very bold— all the way down the 
channel we stood right up to within a few feet of the 
rocks before coming about. 
I have not mentioned the fact that Quohog Bay extends 
up into the heart of Sabascodegan Island. The latter 
which has a total length and breadth of six by three miles 
is so indented by coves, etc., that it has a coastline of 
some fifty-four miles. 
To resume my narrative, beating out the west passage 
we saw more signs of the human race and actually beheld 
a man and woman. We waved them a hearty good morn- 
ing which, after some hesitation, they returned in most 
reluctant manner. This channel, like the one east of 
Pole I., is narrow but deep, the soundings running from 
eleven and a half to six and a half fathoms. 
Opposite the foot of Pole I., and to the west, there is 
a broad cove. Its entrance, between a ledge and the 
shore, is very narrow, but once inside it is a fine anchor- 
age having four fathoms in the middle and from ten to 
twelve feet close up to the shore. It ought to be a good 
