swallow darted about over the marshes as though
it were summer.

When opposite Dew's Quarter Island, several men hailed me from a newly
constructed shanty. When the oldest man in the company, who had never
seen a shell like the paper canoe, had examined it, he shook his head
ominously; and when I told him Nag's Head must be reached that day, he
grew excited, exclaiming, "Then be off now! 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.

Nag's Head Beach is a most desolate locality, with its high sand-hills,
composed of fine sand, the forms of which are constantly changing with
the action of the dry, hard, varying winds. A new and very large hotel
was located south of the first one, and was inhabited by the family of
Captain Jasper Toler, who furnished me with lodgings. A few fishermen
have their homes on this dreary beach, but the village, wit