ring my narrative I may have
more to say of my "hovering ones."

From the island, at the point opposite Neptune's Throne, a good view of
Sark is obtained; on one day it will be seen standing clearly above the
sea, with Brechou or Merchant's Island clearly discernible, and La
Coupee (the isthmus which holds the two parts of the island together)
plainly in view in the sunlight; while on another day but a misty view
of it may be obtained; on yet another day it will be quite invisible,
although the distance is only about six miles.

Resuming our path, Herm is close on our right, the swift channel, La
Percee, running between us and it, and as it lies in the sun looks a
very beautiful picture, especially as the prettiest end, the south, is
presented to our view. A little further we turn up the hill and come to
a grove of rather stunted trees, standing like a double row of soldiers
up to their knees in braken. It is a lovely spot, as the pretty
fern-like brakes grow in great luxuriance beneath the spreading arms of
the walnut and other trees. These brakes grow so tall and thick that it
is quite difficult to force a passage through them, except where I have
cut a narrow path leading to a clearing, across which, on hot days, I
frequently swing my hammock, so as to obtain the full benefit of the
cool sea breeze as I sway beneath the welcome shadow of the biggest
walnut.

Beyond the grove, at the summit of the island, is my arable land, my
farm, lying in a fence of wire-netting, without which I should not be
able to preserve a blade of anything eatable from the hordes of rabbits
which make the island a perfect warren.

We descend again to the pathway with care, as the island's side is so
steep here that a trip over a stone or root might result in fatal
consequences.

As we approach the north-east corner of the island we find the pathway
gradually descending, till we are not more than twenty or thirty feet
above sea level, and notice that a spur of land hooks out into the sea,
forming quite a little bay, very rugged, and very rocky, but still very
convenient as a haven in light weather. Here I keep my crab and lobster
pots, as it is easily accessible from the house. I call it Baie de
Homard (Lobster Bay).

Keeping along the shore, to the north end of the island, we arrive at a
two-storied stone building which stands on the beach. This is my
store-house (for fishing gear, etc.) and workshop, and is situated only
a short dist