There are bright, warm days in the latter part of August when on many parts of the shore may be seen men, women, and children by scores, curiously and wonderfully garbed, grotesquely postured, wading the waters in this fascinating pursuit, which, after the quiet glamor of clam-digging, possesses the excitement of big-game hunting. Were it not for a strict law these same hardy hunters would, undoubtedly, be found in dories, plying a small net for the same purpose, but the very crudity of the chase has its advantages, for one comes close to the life of the sea bottom, and all that goes on there, from the waving masses of seaweed of many varieties to the countless forms of life clinging to the rocks, embedded in the mud or darting through the water. The sea bottom is as busy as Broadway, and as full of mystery.
The reader must not for a moment imagine the scallop, however, as belonging to a sedentary type of life. Often he is found moving at a high rate of speed through the water, propelled by this same muscle which provides his defense. By opening and closing his shell he moves forward and upward or downward, apparently at will, digging himself into the mud and effectually hiding himself from his pursuers. He deserves the respect of his superiors in the animal kingdom, and at the same time proves himself fair game by his prowess.
And so one is led out and out still farther, until, bent upon securing one more victim, a mouthful of water and smarting eyes give notice that those beyond are safe for the time being, and the successful hunter returns to his boat with a full pail, while the sun, enormous and a deep orange red, is just touching the horizon.
The conquest is not complete, for it is no easy task to open these snapping bivalves, and thus to extract the muscle that is the edible portion, and the full reward is by no means reaped. That is left for the evening meal, when the scallop becomes the pièce de résistance cooked in one of a hundred ways. But of this let a cordon bleu convince you, whose best efforts are secured and deserved by the scallop.
AFTERMATH
And now comes the fall of the year with days gorgeous in coloring, from the clear crystal blue of the sky reflected in sparkling waters to the flame-tinted stretches of woodland watched over by tall pines and guarded by stately cedars. The sandy roads glisten in the distances, marking off sections of the Cape country as a huge picture puzzle. The atmosphere seems purged of all imperfection, giving to every town and hamlet a spotless appearance bright with late flowers and fresh fruit awaiting the harvest. Azure days of October, the most perfect of the year. It is then that regretfully we say “au revoir” to our beloved Cape in all its glory.
The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE. MASSACHUSETTS
U.S.A