The Country of the Pointed Firs

“I've heard say he walked the island after that, and sharp-sighted folks could see him an' lose him like one o' them citizens Cap'n Littlepage was acquainted with up to the north pole,” announced Mrs. Todd grimly. “Anyway, there was Indians--you can see their shell-heap that named the island; and I've heard myself that 'twas one o' their cannibal places, but I never could believe it. There never was no cannibals on the coast o' Maine. All the Indians o' these regions are tame-looking folks.” “Sakes alive, yes!” exclaimed Mrs. Fosdick. “Ought to see them painted savages I've seen when I was young out in the South Sea Islands! That was the time for folks to travel, 'way back in the old whalin' days!” “Whalin' must have been dull for a lady, hardly ever makin' a lively port, and not takin' in any mixed cargoes,” said Mrs. Todd. “I never desired to go a whalin' v'y'ge myself.” “I used to return feelin' very slack an' behind the times, 'tis true,” explained Mrs. Fosdick, “but 'twas excitin', an' we always done extra well, and felt rich when we did get ashore. I liked the variety. There, how times have changed; how few seafarin' families there are left! What a lot o' queer folks there used to be about here, anyway, when we was young, Almiry. Everybody's just like everybody else, now; nobody to laugh about, and nobody to cry about.” It seemed to me that there were peculiarities of character in the region of Dunnet Landing yet, but I did not like to interrupt.