In the dune region that extends along the wild coasts of Lake Michigan, and in the back country contiguous to it, is a land of allurement.

The strange human characters, whose little drift-wood shanties are scattered along the shore, and among the sandhills, and whose isolated retreats are further inland, are difficult to become acquainted with, except in a most casual way. They look upon the chance wayfarer with suspicion and disfavor.

Readers of “The Dune Country” will remember “Old Sipes,” “Happy Cal,” and “Catfish John,” the old derelicts living along the beach, further accounts of whose “doin’s” are in the following pages. As portraits of these worthies have already appeared, they are omitted in this volume. New characters are introduced, who, it is hoped, will be, as cordially welcomed.

The region is of important historical interest. Narratives of early exploration, and primitive Indian lore associated with it, have filled many pages of American history. The Pottowattomies have gone, but the romance of the vanished race still lingers among the silent hills. While many poetic legends, of unknown antiquity, have survived the red men, the Indian stories in these pages are entirely fanciful, except as to environment.

The nature loving public will be fortunate if the organized efforts succeed, which are being made to preserve the country of the dunes as a national park. In compliance with a resolution of the Senate, the Department of the Interior, through the able assistant to the Secretary, Mr. Stephen T. Mather, has recently made an exhaustive report on the subject, which is most favorable to the project. Momentous events have, for the time being, eclipsed minor considerations, and this, as well as many other measures for the public good, must wait until the shadow of the Hun has passed.

It is only within the past few years that the picturesque quality of the region has become known to lovers of American landscape, who are now lured by its varied attractions.

The country is of immeasurable value to botanists, ornithologists, and investigators in other fields of natural science.

The Audubon societies are taking a deep interest in its preservation. Those of us for whom it is not necessary to slaughter songsters for the decoration of our hats, and who believe that nature’s beautiful feathered messengers should not be made to bleed and suffer for thoughtless vanity, can sympathize with any movement that will contribute to their welfare. As a refuge for migratory birds, the proposed preserve would be invaluable. It is within the Mississippi valley flight zone, and during the periods of migration the bird life in the dune country is abundant, but unfortunately finds little protection among the wooded hills.

The wild flowers also suffer from vandal hands. Many armfuls of them are ruthlessly picked and carried away, preventing further propagation. A human being is only partially emancipated from barbarism, who cannot look upon a beautiful thing without wanting to pick it or kill it. Primitive savagery would not be attracted by beauty at all. Partial development of the love of beauty suggests its selfish acquirement, while further enlightenment teaches us to cherish and preserve it. The destruction of the wild flowers, and the use of bird plumage for personal adornment, is modified barbarism. We cannot be fully civilized until we are able to love these beautiful things in their natural habitats, without temptation to injure them.

To the botanist, the country is a treasure house. Almost, if not all, of the flora indigenous to the temperate zone, is found within its borders.

The flowers have a kingdom in the dunes. From the secluded nooks and fertile crevices, from among the shadows of the trees, and along the margins of the marshes and little pools, their silent songs of color go out over the landscapes. In no form is beauty so completely expressed, and in no form is it so accessible to us.

The sketches in this volume are culled from the experiences and reflections of many happy days that were spent in this mystic land. In such a retreat we may find refuge from the town, from the nerve-racking noise and stifling smoke, and from the artificialities and the social illusions that becloud our daily lives.

E. H. R.