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Updated: May 14, 2025
And the little world the only world that can be called a world, namely, that special corner of the planet which holds the hearts that love us a world which for him, the multi-millionaire, was just a tiny village with one sweet woman living in it resembled a garland of flowers flung down from the rocks as though to soften their ruggedness, a garland broken asunder at the shoreline, even as all earthly garlands must break and fade at the touch of the first cold wave of the Infinite.
I say a sad duty because we know that we shall not find them; but it is none the less our duty to comb the shoreline, firing signal shells at intervals, that we at least may leave at last with full knowledge that we have done all that men might do to locate them."
Harley had mentioned were all further up the lake. Mr. Harley had been mistaken in his estimation of the size of Apple Tree Island. It was in reality one of the smallest and, Father Blossom thought, less than two miles around its shoreline. It was diamond shaped, and the Winthrop bungalow was now the only building on it. Mr.
Scotty took the short, aluminum boat hook from its fastenings in the small cockpit, stood up on the seat, and stepped over the windshield to the bow. For a moment he surveyed the shoreline from his higher vantage point. "There's a place that looks promising." He held the boat hook out like a spear, pointing. Rick put the runabout in gear, and moved forward at idling speed.
He gazed down on the lake and the shoreline where the hotel would be built, and the places where roads came out of the wilderness. There were changes since the time he'd looked down from Vale's survey post and before the terror beam captured him. He catalogued them mentally, but the sight before him was intolerable.
A wind from the west sprang up an hour before sunset, lashing waves inland until their spray was a salt mist in the air, a mist to sodden clothing, plaster hair to the skull, leaving a brine slime across the skin. Yet Thorvald hunted no shelter, in spite of the promise in the rough shoreline at their backs.
He was unaware that in this queer duel he was using both a power of will and a depth of perception he had never known he possessed. Because of his daring, he had shaken his opponents as no physical attack could have affected them. "Come and get me!" He shouted again at the barren shoreline where the fire ate at the drift and nothing stirred, yet something very much alive and conscious lay hidden.
Rounding Cape Knox for nineteen days, thirteen of which were stormy, we fought our way along about 275 miles of shoreline, traversing to their head every inlet, harbor, sound, port and bay, fourteen in all, from three to ten miles in depth, nearly all hitherto unknown, except to a few of the oldest Indians.
The open waters at the shoreline were alive with these delightful pteropods, true butterflies of the sea.
The nearest point on the shoreline is distant about ten miles from Salt Lake City, and is almost inaccessible on account of the boggy character of the ground, but, by taking the Western Utah Railroad, at a distance of twenty miles you reach what is called Lake Point, where the shore is gravelly and wholesome and abounds in fine retreating bays that seem to have been made on purpose for bathing.
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