Just out of a German prison camp, with a twitching eye and a dull ache in his wrist, Maury was a newspaper man who could no longer write. Perhaps, on the Lake Erie island where his ancestors had tamed the wilderness, he would find himself again. Here Jason Hazard had come to nameless "Island Number 7," and given it his name, had lived in a cave while he blazed his first trapline, had rescued a captive white girl from the Indians to be his bride. Here Joel Hazard had cleared the land and grazed his sheep. Here Matt Hazard had set out his fragrant vineyards. And here Bart Hazard, Maury's father, had driven wildly around the island roads at night, and had met an ignominious death. As Maury roamed the familiar island, as he listened to the tales of Old Seth Crane, as he leafed through the remarkable journals of his great-incle Julian, who had read the signature of time on the ancient island rocks, Maury lived through all that colorful past.