But the houseboater knows another way. For him, the early call is the
call of the tide that finds ready response from a lover of the sea.
Does the tide serve before dawn, man of the ship? Then before dawn its
stir is in your blood; your anchor is heaved home; your sailing-lights,
white and green and red, are bravely twinkling; your propellers are
tossing the waters astern; and you are off.

You are off with the flood just in from the sea, or with the ebb that
is seeking the sea; and with it you go along a way where no one has
passed before--an evanescent way that is made of night shades and river
mists. And after a while you come upon a wonderful thing--almost the
solemn wonder of creation, as, from those thinning, shimmering veils,
the world comes slowly forth and takes shape again.

When the real world took shape for Gadabout that morning on the James,
she was some distance above Shirley and the river was a smaller river
than we had seen at any time before. By the chart, we observed that it
was a comparatively narrow stream all the rest of the way to Richmond.

We had now entered upon a portion of the old waterway that Nautica
insisted had been done up in curl-papers. Here, the voyager must sail
around twenty miles of frivolous loops to make five miles of progress.

Upon coming to a group of buildings indicated on the chart and standing
close to the right bank, we knew that Gadabout had navigated the first
of the fussy curls. Around it, we had travelled six miles since leaving
Shirley, and now had the satisfaction of knowing that the old
manor-house itself stood just across from these buildings, less than a
mile away.

On a little farther, we passed a fine plantation home called Curle's
Neck. A long while after that, another large plantation, Meadowville,
came alongside. But the curious thing was that, at the same time,
alongside came Curle's Neck again. We had travelled something over four
miles since leaving it, yet there it stood directly opposite and less
than three quarters of a mile from us.

[Illustration: VARINA.]

Perhaps the river observed that we were getting a little out of
patience; for, almost immediately, it sought to beguile us by bringing
into view one of its show points, a landing on the left bank with a
large brick house near by. The chart told us that this was Varina; and
the guide-books told us a pretty story about how here, in their
honeymoon days, lived John Rolfe and Pocahontas.

Alt