e! And I woke. _Ripple, ripple, swash!_ _ripple, ripple, swash!_ went
the unconscious waves. As I raised my head I saw the pale beach stretching
off under the moon-washed mists of middle night. Reassured, I sank back,
and when I waked again the big sun was well above the rim of the waters
and all the little waves were dancing and the wet curves of the beach were
gleaming in the new day.

The water was not always restless at night. The next time we camped we
found a little harbor within a harbor, a crescent curve of fine white sand
ending in a point of rock. In one of its clefts we made our fire and
broiled our plover, ranging them on spits of bay so that they hung over
the two edges of rock like people looking down into a miniature Grand
CaA+-on. There were nine of them, fat and sputtering, and while they
cooked, we made toast and arranged the camp. Then we had supper, and
watched the red coals smouldering and the white moonlight filling the
world with a radiance that put out the stars and brought the blue back to
the sky. The little basin of the bay was quiet as a pool, the air was full
of stillness, with now and then the hushed _flip-flip_ of a tiny wave that
had somehow strayed in from the tumbling crowd outside.

We slept well, but once Jonathan waked me. "Look!" he whispered, "White
heron."

I raised my head. There, quite near us in the shallow water, stood a great
pale bird, motionless, on one long, slim leg, his oval body, long neck,
head and bill clearly outlined against the bright water beyond. The mirror
of the water reflected perfectly the soft outline, making a double
creature, one above and one below, with that slim stem of leg between.

I watched him until my neck grew tired. He never moved. Out beyond him,
more dim, stood his mate, motionless too. Now and then they called to each
other, with queer, harsh talk that made the stillness all the stiller when
it closed in again.

When we awoke, they were gone, but we found the heronry that morning on
one of the oak-covered knolls that rise like islands out of the heart of
the great salt marshes.

* * * * *

All through the cruise, the big winds were with us more than we had
expected. They gave us, for the most part, a right good time. For even in
the partly protected Sound it is possible to stir up a sea rough enough to
keep one busy. Each wave, as it came galloping up, was an antagonist to be
dealt with. If we met it succ