Toward the west, beyond our ken,
stretches the Great South Bay, far past where the lighthouse of Fire
Island can be seen flashing out upon the night. To the south, about
three miles distant, are the undulating dunes of the Great South Beach,
that like a huge breakwater shuts out the ocean. To the east is the
broad promontory lying behind Mastic Point. This is practically the same
view upon which we have imagined the traveller by the old-time stage
feasting his eyes at the halting-places along the southern shore. At any
point between Babylon and the place at which we stand the scenery has
the same general character--a picturesque pleasantness devoid of
disturbing grandeur. However loudly the ocean may thunder upon the outer
shore, the bay seldom changes its dimpling smiles for a rougher aspect,
and never wears in wrath the scornful look of the outer deep. A strong
wind may sometimes give a little trouble to the yachtsmen whose craft
enliven the scene, and lead them to reef their swelling canvas, but the
impression carried away from the Great South Bay is decidedly summery--a
memory of mingled sunshine and gentle breezes. The shore is generally
flat, and is lined with a succession of villages located at intervals of
from three to four miles. They are all more or less alike--quiet,
healthy places, in which, to all appearances, the inhabitants take life
easily.

Five or six miles to the west is Blue Point, of oyster fame, in
connection with which a curious tradition is extant. It is said that
long ago the oysters disappeared entirely from the bay. The poor people
from all the country round were in the habit of raking up the oysters
for their own consumption and for sale. In an evil hour the authorities
of the town of Brookhaven, to which the beds belong, resolved upon
replenishing the town treasury by the imposition of a license upon the
poor fishermen. The latter, either unable to meet the demands of the law
or bent upon maintaining what appeared to them a natural right, made a
counter-resolve upon resistance to its enforcement. The result was a
collision, and by dint of armed men and boats the unlicensed fishermen
were driven off. Thereafter, curious to relate, not another oyster was
taken, and nothing but empty shells filled the unblessed rakes. This
state of things lasted until about forty years ago, when it is presumed
the grip of the law was relaxed. The poor people, at all events, then
again had recourse to the long-