To Escape The Dangerous Raccoon Oyster Reefs Of The Shoal Water The Canoe Was Forced Into A Deeper Channel, When The Lively Porpoises Chased The Boat And Drove Me Back Again On To The Sharp-Lipped Shells.

It was fast growing dark, and no place of refuge nearer than the upland, a long distance across the soft marsh, which was even now wet with them.

The rough water of the sound, the oyster reefs which threatened to pierce my boat, and a coast which would be submerged by the next floodtide, all seemed to conspire against me. Suddenly my anxiety was relieved, and gratitude filled my heart, as the tall masts of a schooner rose out of the marshes not far from the upland, telling me that a friendly creek was near at hand. Its wide mouth soon opened invitingly before me, and I rowed towards the beautiful craft anchored in its current, the trim rig of which plainly said - the property of the United States. An officer stood on the quarterdeck watching my approach through his glass; and, as I was passing the vessel, a sailor remarked to his mates, "That is the paper canoe. I was in Norfolk, last December, when it reached the Elizabeth River."

The officer kindly hailed me, and offered me the hospitality of the Coast-Survey schooner "Caswell." In the cosiest of cabins, Mr. W. H. Dennis, with his co-laborers Messrs. Ogden and Bond, with their interesting conversation soon made me forget the discomforts of the last three days spent in the muddy flats among the lowland negroes. From poor, kind Seba Gillings' black cabin-floor, to the neat state-room, with its snowy sheets and clean towels, where fresh, pure water could be used without stint, was indeed a transition. The party expected to complete their work as far as Charleston harbor before the season closed.

The Sunday spent on the "Caswell" greatly refreshed me. On Saturday evening Mr. Dennis traced upon a sheet of paper my route through the interior coast watercourses to Charleston harbor; and I left the pretty schooner on Monday, fully posted for my voyage. The tide commenced flooding at eleven A. M., and the flats soon afforded me water for their passage in the vicinity of the shore. Heavy forests covered the uplands, where a few houses were visible. Bull's Island, with pines and a few cabbage palms, was on my left as I reached the entrance of the southern thoroughfare at the end of the bay. Here, in the intricacies of creeks and passages through the islands, and made careless by the possession of Mr. Dennis' chart, I several times blundered into the wrong course; and got no further that afternoon than Price's Inlet, though I rowed more than twenty miles. Some eight miles of the distance rowed was lost by ascending and descending creeks by mistake.

After a weary day's work shelter was found in a house close by the sea, on the shores of Price's Inlet; where, in company with a young fisherman, who was in the employ of Mr. Magwood, of Charleston, I slept upon the floor in my blankets.

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