HIGH…WATER　MARK
  When　the　tide　was　out　on　the　Dedlow　Marsh；　its　extended　dreariness
  was　patent。　　Its　spongy；　low…lying　surface；　sluggish；　inky　pools；
  and　tortuous　sloughs；　twisting　their　slimy　way；　eel…like；　toward
  the　open　bay；　were　all　hard　facts。　　So　were　the　few　green　tussocks；
  with　their　scant　blades；　their　amphibious　flavor　and　unpleasant
  dampness。　　And　if　you　choose　to　indulge　your　fancyalthough　the
  flat　monotony　of　the　Dedlow　Marsh　was　not　inspiringthe　wavy　line
  of　scattered　drift　gave　an　unpleasant　consciousness　of　the　spent
  waters；　and　made　the　dead　certainty　of　the　returning　tide　a　gloomy
  reflection　which　no　present　sunshine　could　dissipate。　　The　greener
  meadowland　seemed　oppressed　with　this　idea；　and　made　no　positive
  attempt　at　vegetation　until　the　work　of　reclamation　should　be
  complete。　　In　the　bitter　fruit　of　the　low　cranberry　bushes　one
  might　fancy　he　detected　a　naturally　sweet　disposition　curdled　and
  soured　by　an　injudicious　course　of　too　much　regular　cold　water。
  The　vocal　expression　of　the　Dedlow　Marsh　was　also　melancholy　and
  depressing。　　The　sepulchral　boom　of　the　bittern；　the　shriek　of　the
  curlew；　the　scream　of　passing　brent；　the　wrangling　of　quarrelsome
  teal；　the　sharp；　querulous　protest　of　the　startled　crane；　and
  syllabled　complaint　of　the　〃killdeer〃　plover；　were　beyond　the　power
  of　written　expression。　　Nor　was　the　aspect　of　these　mournful　fowls
  at　all　cheerful　and　inspiring。　　Certainly　not　the　blue　heron
  standing　mid…leg　deep　in　the　water；　obviously　catching　cold　in　a
  reckless　disregard　of　wet　feet　and　consequences；　nor　the　mournful
  curlew；　the　dejected　plover；　or　the　low…spirited　snipe；　who　saw　fit
  to　join　him　in　his　suicidal　contemplation；　nor　the　impassive
  kingfisheran　ornithological　Mariusreviewing　the　desolate
  expanse；　nor　the　black　raven　that　went　to　and　fro　over　the　face　of
  the　marsh　continually；　but　evidently　couldn抰　make　up　his　mind
  whether　the　waters　had　subsided；　and　felt　low…spirited　in　the
  reflection　that；　after　all　this　trouble；　he　wouldn't　be　able　to
  give　a　definite　answer。　　On　the　contrary；　it　was　evident　at　a
  glance　that　the　dreary　expanse　of　Dedlow　Marsh　told　unpleasantly　on
  the　birds；　and　that　the　season　of　migration　was　looked　forward　to
  with　a　feeling　of　relief　and　satisfaction　by　the　full…grown；　and　of
  extravagant　anticipation　by　the　callow；　brood。　　But　if　Dedlow　Marsh
  was　cheerless　at　the　slack　of　the　low　tide；　you　should　have　seen　it
  when　the　tide　was　strong　and　full。　　When　the　damp　air　blew　chilly
  over　the　cold；　glittering　expanse；　and　came　to　the　faces　of　those
  who　looked　seaward　like　another　tide；　when　a　steel…like　glint
  marked　the　low　hollows　and　the　sinuous　line　of　slough；　when　the
  great　shell…incrusted　trunks　of　fallen　trees　arose　again；　and　went
  forth　on　their　dreary；　purposeless　wanderings；　drifting　hither　and
  thither；　but　getting　no　farther　toward　any　goal　at　the　falling　tide
  or　the　day's　decline　than　the　cursed　Hebrew　in　the　legend；　when　the
  glossy　ducks　swung　silently；　making　neither　ripple　nor　furrow　on
  the　shimmering　surface；　when　the　fog　came　in　with　the　tide　and　shut
  out　the　blue　above；　even　as　the　green　below　had　been　obliterated；
  when　boatmen　lost　in　that　fog；　paddling　about　in　a　hopeless　way；
  started　at　what　seemed　the　brushing　of　mermen's　fingers　on　the
  boat's　keel；　or　shrank　from　the　tufts　of　grass　spreading　around
  like　the　floating　hair　of　a　corpse；　and　knew　by　these　signs　that
  they　were　lost　upon　Dedlow　Marsh　and　must　make　a　night　of　it；　and　a
  gloomy　one　at　thatthen　you　might　know　something　of　Dedlow　Marsh
  at　high　water。
  Let　me　recall　a　story　connected　with　this　latter　view　which　never
  failed　to　recur　to　my　mind　in　my　long　gunning　excursions　upon
  Dedlow　Marsh。　　Although　the　event　was　briefly　recorded　in　the
  counry　paper；　I　had　the　story；　in　all　its　eloquent　detail；　from　the
  lips　of　the　principal　actor。　　I　cannot　hope　to　catch　the　varying
  emphasis　and　peculiar　coloring　of　feminine　delineation；　for　my
  narrator　was　a　woman；　but　I'll　try　to　give　at　least　its　substance。
  She　lived　midway　of　the　great　slough　of　Dedlow　Marsh　and　a　good…
  sized　river；　which　debouched　four　miles　beyond　into　an　estuary
  formed　by　the　Pacific　Ocean；　on　the　long　sandy　peninsula　which
  constituted　the　southwestern　boundary　of　a　noble　bay。　　The　house　in
  which　she　lived　was　a　small　frame　cabin　raised　from　the　marsh　a　few
  feet　by　stout　piles；　and　was　three　miles　distant　from　the
  settlements　upon　the　river。　　Her　husband　was　a　loggera　profitable
  business　in　a　county　where　the　principal　occupation　was　the
  manufacture　of　lumber。
  It　was　the　season　of　early　spring　when　her　husband　left　on　the　ebb
  of　a　high　tide；　with　a　raft　of　logs　for　the　usual　transportation　to
  the　lower　end　of　the　bay。　　As　she　stood　by　the　door　of　the　little
  cabin　when　the　voyagers　departed　she　noticed　a　cold　look　in　the
  southeastern　sky；　and　she　remembered　hearing　her　husband　say　to　his
  companions　that　they　must　endeavor　to　complete　their　voyage　before
  the　coming　of　the　southwesterly　gale　which　he　saw　brewing。　　And
  that　night　it　began　to　storm　and　blow　harder　than　she　had　ever
  before　experienced；　and　some　great　trees　fell　in　the　forest　by　the
  river；　and　the　house　rocked　like　her　baby's　cradle。
  But　however　the　storm　might　roar　about　the　little　cabin；　she　knew
  that　one　she　trusted　had　driven　bolt　and　bar　with　his　own　strong
  hand；　and　that　had　he　feared　for　her　he　would　not　have　left　her。
  This；　and　her　domestic　duties；　and　the　care　of　her　little　sickly
  baby；　helped　to　keep　her　mind　from　dwelling　on　the　weather；　except；
  of　course；　to　hope　that　he　was　safely　harbored　with　the　logs　at
  Utopia　in　the　dreary　distance。　　But　she　noticed　that　day；　when　she
  went　out　to　feed　the　chickens　and　look　after　the　cow；　that　the　tide
  was　up　to　the　little　fence　of　their　garden…patch；　and　the　roar　of
  the　surf　on　the　south　beach；　though　miles　away；　she　could　hear
  distinctly。　　And　she　began　to　think　that　she　would　like　to　have
  someone　to　talk　with　about　matters；　and　she　believed　that　if　it　had
  not　been　so　far　and　so　stormy；　and　the　trail　so　impassable；　she
  would　have　taken　the　baby　and　have　gone　over　to　Ryckman's；　her
  nearest　neighbor。　　But　then；　you　see；　he　might　have　returned　in　the
  storm；　all　wet；　with　no　one　to　see　to　him；　and　it　was　a　long
  exposure　for　baby；　who　was　croupy　and　ailing。
  But　that　night；　she　never　could　tell　why；　she　didn't　feel　like
  sleeping　or　even　lying　down。　　The　storm　had　somewhat　abated；　but
  she　still　〃sat　and　sat；〃　and　even　tried　to　read。　　I　don't　know
  whether　it　was　a　Bible　or　some　profane　magazine　that　this　poor
  woman　read；　but　most　probably　the　latter；　for　the　words　all　ran
  together　and　made　such　sad　nonsense　that　she　was　forced　at　last　to
  put　the　book　down　and　turn　to　that　dearer　volume　which　lay　before
  her　in　the　cradle；　with　its　white　initial　leaf　as　yet　unsoiled；　and
  try　to　look　forward　to　its　mysterious　future。　　And；　rocking　the
  cradle；　she　thought　of　everything　and　everybody；　but　still　was
  wide…awake　as　ever。
  It　was　nearly　twelve　o'clock　when　she　at　last　lay　down　in　her
  clothes。　　How　long　she　slept　she　could　not　remember；　but　she　awoke
  with　a　dreadful　choking　in　her　throat；　and　found　herself　standing；
  trembling　all　over；　in　the　middle　of　the　room；　with　her　baby
  clasped　to　her　breast；　and　she　was　〃saying　something。〃　　The　baby
  cried　and　sobbed；　and　she　walked　up　and　down　trying　to　hush　it　when
  she　heard　a　scratching　at　the　door。　　She　opened　it　fearfully；　and
  was　glad　to　see　it　was　only　old　Pete；　their　dog；　who　crawled；
  dripping　with　water；　into　the　room。　　She　would　like　to　have　looked
  out；　not　in　the　faint　hope　of　her　husband's　coming；　but　to　see　how
  things　looked；　but　the　wind　shook　the　door　so　savagely　that　she
  could　hardly　hold　it。　　Then　she　sat　down　a　little　while；　and　then
  walked　up　and　down　a　little　while；　and　then　she　lay　down　again　a
  little　while。　　Lying　close　by　the　wall　of　the　little　cabin；　she
  thought　she　heard　once　or　twice　something　scrape　slowly　against　the
  clapboards；　like　the　scraping　of　branches。　　Then　there　was　a　little
  gurgling　sound；　〃like　the　baby　made　when　it　was　swallowing〃；　then
  something　went　〃click…click〃　and　〃cluck…cluck；〃　so　that　she　sat　up
  in　bed。　　When　she　did　so　she　was　attracted　by　something　else　that
  seemed　creeping　from　the　back　door　toward　the　center　of　the　room。
  It　wasn't　much　wider　than　her　little　finger；　but　soon　it　swelled　to
  the　width　of　her　hand；　and　began　spreading　all　over　the　floor。　　It
  was　water。
  She　ran　to　the　front　door　and　threw　it　wide　open；　and　saw　nothing
  but　water。　　She　ran　to　the　back　door　and　threw　it　open；　and　saw
  nothing　but　water。　　She　ran　to　the　side　window；　and　throwing　that
  open；　she　saw　nothing　but　water。　　Then　she　remembered　hearing　her
  husband　once　say　that　there　was　no　danger　in　the　tide；　for　that
  fell　regularly；　and　people　could　calculate　on　it；　and　that　he　would
  rather　live　near　the　bay　than　the　river；　whose　banks　m