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The sea lay like an unbroken mirror all around the pine-girt, lonely shores of Orr's Island.
Over there was a coulee where in exciting patience they had sought to ambush the enemy. Yonder was a plain that had been a battlefield. Winding over the pine-girt hilltop they traced an old buffalo trail. And now they had reached the council lodge. They had partaken of the bread and meat. They had exchanged greetings, and pledged themselves to brotherhood and peace. How familiar it all seemed!
They could not understand a man who would stand for a half-hour watching a sunset, or a morning sky dappled with all the colours that shake from a prism; they were suspicious of a business-mind which could gloat over the light falling on snow-peaked mountains, while it planned a great bridge across a gorge in the same hour; of a man who would quote a verse of poetry while a flock of wild pigeons went whirring down a pine-girt valley in the shimmer of the sun.
They could not understand a man who would stand for a half-hour watching a sunset, or a morning sky dappled with all the colours that shake from a prism; they were suspicious of a business-mind which could gloat over the light falling on snow-peaked mountains, while it planned a great bridge across a gorge in the same hour; of a man who would quote a verse of poetry while a flock of wild pigeons went whirring down a pine-girt valley in the shimmer of the sun.
One sees the "sea like an unbroken mirror all around the pine-girt, lonely shores of Orr's Island," and straightway comes "the heavy, hollow moan of the surf on the beach, like the wild, angry howl of some savage animal."
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