Of these "humps"--for there were, as their name suggested, but two--the northern one was much the smaller, embracing perhaps an acre of rough soil, covered with a stunted grass, and dotted here and there with red cedars. The southern one, on the other hand, covered also with a scanty vegetation and scattered trees, broadened out so as nearly to land-lock the cove behind it, and cause its waters to rush in or out, according to the tide, through an exceedingly contracted passage at its extreme southwestern end, popularly known as "the sluiceway." The point of contact of the southern with the northern hump, like the northern hump with the mainland, was also very narrow, and to its narrowness was added another feature--it was so low, or, in more technical language, it was so nearly on a level with the high-water mark, that when there happened to be a strong wind from any eastern quarter, the waters of the sound, on the incoming tide, would rush with great force over the slight barrier and mingle with the waters of the cove, making an island, for the time, of the larger and more southern hump. Three-quarters of a mile off shore, and a little to the northeast of these humps, was an island of an irregular shape and a few acres in extent, bearing the name of Sheep Island. The name had belonged to it since colonial days, but the reason therefor was unknown, unless at that early period some enterprising farmer had used the island as pasture ground for animals of that kind, which gave the island its title. This island had in later years, however, a more illustrious inhabitant. A gentleman of considerable means, tired of society, or for some reason at enmity with it, crossed over from the main shore, erected a small house, dug a well, set out trees, planted a garden and built a wharf--in fact, set up thereon a complete habitation. But not long did he endure his self-imposed solitude. Scarcely were his arrangements completed when an unfortunate accident caused his death, and the island and its improvements were left to be the home of the sea-fowls or the temporary abode of some passing fisherman. This extended description has been given because it is essential that the reader should form a definite idea of the island and its relation to the "Camel Humps;" for on and about them no small portion of our young hero's summer was destined to be spent. During the fall and winter months previous to Matt's coming to the farm, owing to the repeated storms, there had been landed on the "humps" immense quantities of seaweed, so highly prized by the farmer as a fertilizer. Mr. Noman had contented himself, however, with simply gathering it into a huge pile on the summit of the southern hump, above high-water mark, intending to remove it to the barnyard in the spring. Thus it fell to Matt's lot to cart from the heap to the yard as the weed was needed, and the first week in June found him engaged in this work.