ime and nationality--it is a human device and speaks an
universal language. It is generally overflowing with all sorts of
commodities, from a hand-saw to a toothpick--is well stocked with
calico and molasses, rum and candles, straw hats and sugar, bacon and
coal oil, and gun-powder and beeswax. It is the rallying point for all
the mischief-making gossips to collect, for the settlement of the
affairs of the nation, and, failing in that, to set the neighbors by
the ears.

Leaving the canal, we go out into another river: a bright spot breaks
upon us--a lumber station with new, fresh-looking piles of sawed
lumber. The banks of this stream are just as low, marshy and
uninteresting as the one we have passed through, and more crooked.
There are perhaps a few more trees--some oaks, and we observed a tree
with its crimson and yellow autumn foliage, backed by a clump of
pines, looking beautiful against the dark green, like sunlight
illumining a gloomy spot.

After winding through the channel for a few hours, we enter Currituck
Sound. This shallow sea takes its name from a tribe of Indians which
once owned the adjacent lands. It is quite a large sheet of water,
though not deep, about fifty miles long, and nearly ten at the widest
part. It is dotted with small, low, sedgy islands, marshes and swamps.
After enduring the approaches to it, quite an enlivening scene is
presented. Persons are seen on the shore of the mainland, and boats
are moving about in various directions. Huge groaning windmills, with
tattered sails, guard the shore and torture the Indian corn into
bread-stuff. Now for the first time the traveler begins to realize
what it is to see wild fowl. The water seems black with ducks and
geese, and dazzling white with the graceful swans. The latter sit in
great flocks on the shoals, for miles in length. As the steamer
approaches, they arise in such vast numbers as to nearly blacken the
heavens with a rushing sound like the coming tornado. Arriving as near
our destination as the vessel can take us, we disembark, landing on a
strong platform built far out from the shore. For a half hour we are
busy getting our traps from the bait--guns, dogs, ammunition, boxes,
bags, bales, bundles, baskets and barrels. We had left nothing
unpurchased which could contribute to the comfort of the inner or
outer man--especially the former. Now we transfer everything to a
small boat, sent from the beach miles away, to meet and convey us to
our