ounding acres. His large white house could be seen from the
landing, a quarter of a mile up the road.

"I learned that a stranger from the north was camped here, and was
expecting that he would come up and take breakfast with me," was his
kindly way of introducing himself.

I told him I was comfortably established in dry quarters, and did not
feel justified in forcing myself upon his hospitality while I had so
many good things of this life in my provision-basket.

Mr. Dudley would take no excuse, but conducted me to his house, where I
remained that day, attending the religious services in a little church
in the vicinity. My kind host introduced me to his neighbors, several of
whom returned with us to dinner. I found the people about Pungo Ferry,
like those I had met along the sounds of the eastern shore of Maryland
and Virginia, very piously inclined,--the same kind-hearted, hospitable
people.

My host entertained me the next day, which was rainy, with his life in
the Confederate army, in which he served as a lieutenant. He was a
prisoner at Johnson's Island for twenty-two months. He bore no malice
towards northern men who came south to join with the natives in working
for the true interests of the country. The people of the south had
become weary of political sufferings inflicted by a floating population
from the north; they needed actual settlers, not politicians. This
sentiment I found everywhere expressed. On Tuesday I bade farewell to my
new friends, and rowed down the North Landing River towards Currituck
Sound.

The North Carolina line is only a few miles south of the ferry. The
river enters the head of the sound six or eight miles below Pungo Ferry.
A stiff northerly breeze was blowing, and as the river widened, on
reaching the head of the sound, to a mile or more, and bays were to be
crossed from point to point, it required the exercise of considerable
patience and muscular exertion to keep the sea from boarding the little
craft amidship. As I was endeavoring to weather a point, the swivel of
one of the outriggers parted at its junction with the row-lock, and it
became necessary to get under the south point of the marshes for
shelter.

The lee side offered a smooth bay. It was but a few minutes' work to
unload and haul the canoe into the tall rushes, which afforded ample
protection against the cold wind. It was three hours before the wind
went down, when the canoe was launched, and, propelled by the doub