Now! Git Across The Bay Under Bald
Beach As Soon As Ye Can, And Hug The Shore, Hug
It Well Clean Down To Collington's, And Git Across
The Sound Afore The Wind Rises.
Sich a boat as
that aren't fit for these here waters."
Taking this kindly meant advice, I pulled to
the east side, where there was now a good depth
of water for the canoe. On this high beach the
hills were well covered with yellow pines, many
of which were noble old trees. On a narrow
point of the shore was the comfortable house of
Hodges Gallup, the Baptist minister, a generous
old gentleman, who seemed to be loved by all
the watermen along the sound. He was
described as being "full of fun and hospitality."
His domain extended for several miles along
the beach, and, with deer quietly browsing in his
grand old woods, formed a pretty picture.
The beach shore now became more thickly
settled, while out in the water, a few rods from
each little house, arose the duck-blind, with the
gunner and his boat inside, anxiously watching
for birds, while their decoys floated quietly on
the surface of the water. A few miles below
Mr. Gallup's estate the canoe entered upon the
broad waters of Albemarle Sound, and at dusk I
approached Roanoke Island. The large
buildings of the hotels of Nag's Head on the beach
rose up as boldly to the eye as a fortification.
The little sound between Roanoke Island and
the beach was traversed at dusk as far as the first
long pier of Nag's head, upon which with great
difficulty I landed, and was soon joined by the
keeper of the now deserted summer watering
place, Mr. C. D. Rutter, who helped me to carry
my property into a room of the old hotel.
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