Sketches In Duneland - free ebook by Earl H. (Earl Howell) Reed

SKETCHES IN DUNELAND

BY THE SAME AUTHOR THE VOICES OF THE DUNES Quarto Boards $6.00 Net ETCHING A PRACTICAL TREATISE Crown Quarto Cloth $2.50 Net THE DUNE COUNTRY Square Octavo Cloth $3.00 Net The Ancient...

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Sketches in DUNELAND by EARL H. REED Author of “The Voices of the Dunes” “Etching: A Practical Treatise” “The Dune Country” Illustrated by the Author NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD MCMXVIII

COPYRIGHT, 1918 BY JOHN LANE COMPANY THE·PLIMPTON·PRESS NORWOOD·MASS·U·S·A To THE MEMORY OF C. C. R....

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INTRODUCTION

In the dune region that extends along the wild coasts of Lake Michigan, and in the back country contiguous to it, is a land of allurement. The strange human characters, whose little drift-wood shanties are scattered along the shore, and among the sandhills, and whose isolated retreats are further inland, are difficult to become acquainted with, except in a most casual way. They look upon the chance wayfarer with suspicion and disfavor. Readers of “The Dune Country” will remember “Old Sipes,” “Ha

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I THE DREAM JEWEL

The tribe of the sturgeon was speeding southward over the rock-strewn floors of the inland sea. In the van of the swimming host its leader bore a wondrous stone. From it multicolored beams flashed out through the dim waters and into unsounded depths. Shapes, still and ghostly, with waving fins and solemn orbs, stared at the passing glow and vanished. Phantom-like forms faded quickly into dark recesses, and frightened schools of small fish fled away over pale sandy expanses. Clouds of fluttering

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II A ROMANCE OF MT. TOM

“MT. TOM” ( From the Author’s Etching )...

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II A ROMANCE OF MT. TOM

Before strangers came into the land, bringing with them a prosaic nomenclature, there was no Mt. Tom. When the early white explorers crossed the southern end of Lake Michigan in their frail canoes, they saw, from far out on the water, dim irregular filaments of yellow that stretched along the horizon. There was a bold accent in the far-flung line of distant coast, an ancient landmark of a primitive race. The noble promontory that lifted its royal brow from among the contours of the sand hills—th

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III THE HERON’S POOL

THE HERON’S POOL ( From the Author’s Etching )...

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III THE HERON’S POOL

The pool was far back from the big marshes through which the lazy current of the river wound. It was in one of those secluded nooks that the seeping water finds for itself when it would hide in secret retreats and form a little world of its own. It was bordered by slushy grasses and small willows; its waters spread silently among the bulrushes, lily pads and thick brush tangles. A few ghostly sycamores and poplars protruded above the undergrowth, and the intricate network of wild grape-vines con

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IV THE STORY OF THE STREAM

“Omemee”...

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IV THE STORY OF THE STREAM

The bistre-colored waters of French Creek seep sluggishly out of the ancient peat beds far away in the country back of the dunes. Countless tiny rivulets of transparent golden brown creep through the low land among the underbrush and mingle with the gentle current that whispers in the deep grasses, ripples against decayed branches and fallen trunks, hides under masses of gnarled roots and projecting banks, and enters the long sinuous ravine that winds through the woods and sand-hills. The ravine

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V THE MOON IN THE MARSH

THE MOON IN THE MARSH ( From the Author’s Etching )...

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V THE MOON IN THE MARSH

There is a hazy mist on the horizon where the red rim of the October sun left the sky-line. The twilight of Indian Summer is stealing over the marsh. There is a hush of vibrant voices and a muffled movement of tiny life in the darkened places. Sorrow rests upon the world, for the time of the requiem of the leaves has come. The red arrows are abroad; a flush of crimson is creeping through the forest. An elusive fragrance of fruition is in the air, and a drowsy languor droops the stems and branche

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VI HOLY ZEKE

“ Holy Zeke ”...

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VI HOLY ZEKE

“ And mine eye shall not spare, neither will I have pity; I will recompense thee according to thy ways and thine abominations that are in the midst of thee; and ye shall know that I am the Lord that smiteth. ”— Ezekiel 7:9 After an industrious day with my sketch book among the dunes, I walked over to the lake shore and looked up the beach toward Sipes’s shanty. In the gathering twilight a faint gleam came through the small window. Not having seen my old friend for nearly a year, I decided to pay

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VII THE LOVE AFFAIR OF HAPPY CAL AND ELVIREY SMETTERS

Mrs Elvirey Smetters...

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VII THE LOVE AFFAIR OF HAPPY CAL AND ELVIREY SMETTERS

“Happy Cal” had been a member of the widely scattered colony of derelicts along the wild coast for many years; in fact, he was its beginning, for when he came through the sand-hills and gathered the driftwood to build his humble dwelling, there were no human neighbors. The circling gulls, the crows, and the big blue herons that stalked along the wave-washed beach looked curiously at the intruder into their solitudes. The blue-jays scolded boisterously, and many pairs of concealed eyes peered at

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VIII THE RESURRECTION OF BILL SAUNDERS

Bill Saunders...

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VIII THE RESURRECTION OF BILL SAUNDERS

Sipes and Saunders had acquired a detachable motor for their boat. Catfish John had obtained it on one of his various trips to the little village at the mouth of the river about fifteen miles away. The disgusted owner had traded it in on his fish account with John, and had thrown in, as a bonus, some gasoline, mixing oil, a lot of damaged small tools, a much-worn book of instructions, and a great deal of conversation. He was careful to impress on John that he wanted no “come back,” and was not r

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IX THE WINDING RIVER’S TREASURE

“Na’cissus Jackson”...

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IX THE WINDING RIVER’S TREASURE

There was much bustle and preparation around the fish shanty one August morning. Hoarded on a shelf of the bluff were a lot of water-worn boards, which had drifted in along the beach at various times, or been thrown up by the storms, and gradually gathered. The old shipmates had selected suitable pieces from the pile, and were busily engaged, with hammer and saw, in building a cabin on the big boat. It was a cumbrous and unwieldy craft, about twenty feet long, with high sides and a broad beam. F

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X THE PLUTOCRATS

The Game Warden and his Deputy The invitation of the old shipmates to remain with them for a while was gratefully accepted. The witchery of the changing landscapes and the color-crowned dunes was irresistible. The society of my odd friends, which was full of human interest, and certain beguiling promises made by Narcissus, were factors that prolonged the stay. After a week of blustery weather, and a light fall of snow, the haze of Indian Summer stole softly over the hills. The mystic slumberous

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A DIABOLIC CADENCE

Into the choirs of the trees there has come a rasping, strident, and unholy sound. A fiend in green is mocking the transient year with mad threnody from his eyrie among the boughs. In that suspended half consciousness that hovers along the margin of a dream, there seems to echo, out of some vast and awful chasm, a rumbling roar of rocks—from some abysmal smithy of the gods within the hidden caverns of the earth where huge boulders are being fashioned by giant hands, to be hurled up into space, t

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