Across the mouth of this harbor and reaching well out into the Sound itself, there lay a multitude of small islands, some mere jutting rocks to which a few scraggly pines clung tenaciously, others larger and thickly wooded. All of them were steep and rocky, and between them the tide rushed ceaselessly in queer, erratic, frequently dangerous currents. It was a fine place for fish of many sorts, but little more could be said for it, though on one or two of the larger islands duck shooters had put up rough huts which they used in the late fall and early spring when the season was on.