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The song of pleasant stations beside the salt lagoons, The song of blowing squadrons that shuffled down the dunes, The song of midnight dances that churned the sea to flame The Beaches of Lukannon before the sealers came! And o'er the foam-flecked offing as far as voice could reach We hailed the landing-parties and we sang them up the beach.
The beach is disgracefully crowded this season. I've met at least a hundred seals from Lukannon Beach, house hunting. Why can't people stay where they belong?" "I've often thought we should be much happier if we hauled out at Otter Island instead of this crowded place," said Matkah. "Bah! Only the holluschickie go to Otter Island. If we went there they would say we were afraid.
"Remember, Mother, it is always the seventh wave that goes farthest up the beach." Curiously enough, there was another seal who thought that she would put off marrying till the next year, and Kotick danced the Fire-dance with her all down Lukannon Beach the night before he set off on his last exploration.
Men shoot us in the water and club us on the land; Men drive us to the Salt House like silly sheep and tame, And still we sing Lukannon before the sealers came. Wheel down, wheel down to southward; oh, Gooverooska, go! And tell the Deep-Sea Viceroys the story of our woe; Ere, empty as the shark's egg the tempest flings ashore, The Beaches of Lukannon shall know their sons no more!
That very minute he turned north, swimming steadily, and as he went on he met scores of his mates, all bound for the same place, and they said: "Greeting, Kotick! This year we are all holluschickie, and we can dance the Fire-dance in the breakers off Lukannon and play on the new grass. But where did you get that coat?"
Lukannon This is the great deep-sea song that all the St. Paul seals sing when they are heading back to their beaches in the summer. It is a sort of very sad seal National Anthem.
Of course it was not all done at once, for the seals are not very clever, and they need a long time to turn things over in their minds, but year after year more seals went away from Novastoshnah, and Lukannon, and the other nurseries, to the quiet, sheltered beaches where Kotick sits all the summer through, getting bigger and fatter and stronger each year, while the holluschickie play around him, in that sea where no man comes.
The sea is full of fire on summer nights all the way down from Novastoshnah to Lukannon, and each seal leaves a wake like burning oil behind him and a flaming flash when he jumps, and the waves break in great phosphorescent streaks and swirls.
The Beaches of Lukannon the winter wheat so tall The dripping, crinkled lichens, and the sea-fog drenching all! The platforms of our playground, all shining smooth and worn! The Beaches of Lukannon the home where we were born! I met my mates in the morning, a broken, scattered band.
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