THE INLAND PASSAGE. 41 



We made one of our best runs that day. The 

 weather was too perfect for us to stop for fish or 

 birds, although we saw clouds of the latter rising 

 up in the distance from the disturbed surface of the 

 Sound. We ought to have gone to Hatteras, or 

 Roanoke Inlet, where we had been assured by the 

 residents the brant shooting was magnificent, but 

 we could not lose such unusually favorable Aveather, 

 and sped on and on through the seething waves, 

 hour after hour, till when the sun was still quite 

 well above the horizon, we ran through the narrow 

 channel into the peaceful waters of Core Sound. 



What a change came over the spirit of our sail- 

 ing, from the boisterous violence and rough seas 

 that beat our vessel's sides turbulently, or followed 

 us fiercely to the scarcely ruffled bosom of the small 

 and shallow bay, only a few miles wide, and shut in 

 on all sides by the land. We managed to reach 

 Lewis's Creek before sunset, where we saw a number 

 of working boats going to find security for the 

 night. When we had anchored among them, the 

 fishermen told us that there were the usual kinds 

 of salt water fish, although there was no tide in 

 Core Sound other than that made by the wind. 

 They said there was good oystering off the point of 

 Lewis's Creek, and next day proved their words. Ib 

 was a wild spot. The only mark of human habita- 

 tion being an old wind-mill, which stood on the 

 point, The weird effect was further heightened 

 during the darkness by the lighting of fires by the 

 fishermen, who had no sleeping accommodations 



