Most of them had taken the walk before; Cope, as a novice,
became the especial care of Mrs. Phillips herself. The way led sandily
along the crest of a wooded amphitheatre, with less stress on the prospect
waterward than might have been expected. Cope was not allowed, indeed, to
overlook the vague horizon where, through the pine groves, the blue of sky
and of sea blended into one; but, under Medora Phillips' guidance, his eyes
were mostly turned inland.
"People think," she said, "that 'the Dunes' means nothing beyond a regular
row of sandhills following the edge of the water; yet half the interest and
three-quarters of the variety are to be found in behind them. See my wide
marsh, off to the southeast, with those islands of tamarack here and there,
and imagine how beautiful the shadows are toward sunset. Look at that thick
wood at the foot of the slope: do you think it is flat? No, it's as humpy
and hilly as anything ever traversed. Only this spring a fascinating
murderer hid there for weeks, and last January we could hear the howls of
timber-wolves driven down from Michigan by the cold. And see those tall
dead pines rising above it all.
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