e big waves and holding steady.

A short distance beyond Sturgeon Point was the indentation in the shore
marking the mouth of Kittewan Creek. Old cypress trees stepped out into
the river on either side, while a row of stakes seemed to indicate the
channel of the little waterway. Sounding along we went in with four
feet of water under us.

Our plan was to find an anchorage a little way up the creek, and then
next day to start with the rising tide for a run on up to Weyanoke. Of
course Weyanoke fronted upon the James, but our idea was to make a sort
of back-door landing by running up this stream and in behind the
plantation. There was no sheltering cove to lie in on the river front;
and besides, to make the visit at the regular pier was so hopelessly
commonplace. Any of the ordinary palace yachts could do the thing that
way. But it took a gypsy craft like Gadabout to wriggle up the little
back-country creek and to land among the chickens and the geese
and--bulls perhaps; but then all explorers must take chances.

Kittewan Creek is a marsh stream; yet for some distance in from the
mouth tall cypresses stand along the reedy banks. These trees protected
us from the high wind and made it easy for us to take Gadabout up the
narrow watercourse.

As she moved slowly along, we were looking for an ancient tomb that we
had been told stood on the left bank of the stream not far from the
mouth--"the mysterious tomb of the James" some one had called it. While
we could see nothing of it then, we resolved to search for it upon
returning from our run up the creek to visit Weyanoke. But we were
destined to see the tomb before seeing Weyanoke.

[Illustration: THE FOREST TOMB.]

[Illustration: THE OLD KITTEWAN HOUSE]

Upon reaching the first bend in the stream, our tree-protection failed
us and Gadabout became so absorbed in the antics of wind and tide that
she paid no further heed to any suggestions on our part as to the
proper way to navigate Kittewan Creek. Her notion seemed to be to run
down a few fish-nets whose corks were bobbing about on the water, and
then to go over and hang herself up on some cypress stumps at the edge
of the marsh. We insisted upon her going a little way farther up the
creek. But a compromise was all that could be effected; anchors were
dropped and operations temporarily suspended on both sides.

We had a much belated dinner, and then all went ashore to make
inquiries and to get supplies at a house that