As the lighthouse wagon descended the long slope at the southern end of the village and began the circle of the inner extremity of Eastboro Back Harbor, Seth realized that his journey was to be a hard one.

The rain, driven by the northeast wind, came off the water in blinding gusts, and the waves in the harbor were tipped with white.

Also, although the tide was almost at its lowest, streaks of seaweed across the road showed where it had reached that forenoon, and prophesied even a greater flood that night.
He turned his head and gazed up the harbor to where it narrowed and became Pounddug Slough.

In the Slough, near its ocean extremity, his old schooner, the Daisy M., lay stranded.

He had not visited her for a week, and he wondered if the "spell of weather" had injured her to any extent.
This speculation, however, was but momentary.