The day was fair; the sky was blue; the sea gulls soared about our
little ship, uttering their shrill cries in search of food. Soon the
land could be plainly seen along the island, and as we neared its shores
my thoughts went back to a few years ago, when I stood on the deck of
the steamboat Michigan watching so eagerly to catch the first glimpse of
the dear old island that was my home. And now as we passed Cable's dock
and saw the houses, and people walking about, how familiar everything
looked to me. I watched to see our old home, but father said to me, "It
is burned down." I looked at the place where it had stood and through my
tears it seemed I could almost see my little brother Charley and myself
strolling along the beach as we so often did in the old days, chasing
the plovers along the shore. Then again I could see ourselves hurrying
to get on board the little vessel with our goods left upon the beach and
the Mormon men pointing the guns at us. Father seemed to know what was
passing in my mind as he said. "There are only friends here now."
We sailed along Big Sand Bay, and there were many little buildings left
where the fishermen lived. The Martin's and Sullivans place, with
Kilty's and others, all looked so familiar, then past Loaney's Point
with the big rock, and the homes looked just the same. In a short time
our little ship was sailing into the harbor, where something new greeted
my eyes, and that was the light house on the point, which was not there
when I was there last. Everything was so beautiful and fair to look upon
I could not help enjoying the lovely trip across the lake.