ast, and the same may be said of all the
inlets between it and Cape Fear.

Rainy weather kept me within doors until Friday, the 7th of January,
when I rowed down White Oak River to Bogue Inlet, and turned into the
beach thoroughfare, which led me three miles and a half to Bear Inlet.
My course now lay through creeks among the marshes to the Stand-Back,
near the mainland, where the tides between the two inlets head. Across
this shoal spot I traversed tortuous watercourses with mud flats, from
which beds of sharp raccoon oysters projected and scraped the keel of my
boat.

The sea was now approached from the mainland to Brown's Inlet, where the
tide ran like a mill-race, swinging my canoe in great circles as I
crossed it to the lower side. Here I took the widest thoroughfare, and
left the beach only to retrace my steps to follow one nearer the strand,
which conducted me to the end of the natural system of watercourses,
where I found a ditch, dug seventy years before, which connected the
last system of waters with another series of creeks that emptied their
waters into New River Inlet.

Emerging from the marshes, my course led me away from New River Inlet,
across open sheets of water to the mainland, where Dr. Ward's cotton
plantation occupied a large and cultivated area in the wilderness. It
was nearly two miles from his estate down to the inlet. The intervening
flats among the island marshes of New River were covered with natural
beds of oysters, upon which the canoe scraped as I crossed to the narrow
entrance of Stump Sound. Upon rounding a point of land I found, snugly
ensconced in a grove, the cot of an oysterman, Captain Risley Lewis,
who, after informing me that his was the last habitation to be found in
that vicinity, pressed me to be his guest.

The next day proved one of trial to patience and muscle. The narrow
watercourses, which like a spider's web penetrate the marshes with
numerous small sheets of water, made travelling a most difficult task.
At times I was lost, again my canoe was lodged upon oyster-beds in the
shallow ponds of water, the mud bottoms of which would not bear my
weight if I attempted to get overboard to lighten the little craft.

Alligator Lake, two miles in width, was crossed without seeing an
alligator. Saurians are first met with, as the traveller proceeds south,
in the vicinity of Alligator Creek and the Neuse River, in the latitude
of Pamplico Sound. During the cold weather they hide