e of its land is very high, for
you must be nearly opposite Sandy Hook before you can see it. There is
a hill or ridge running lengthwise through the island, nearest the
north side and west end of the island. The south side and east end are
more flat. The water by which it is separated from the Mahatans, is
improperly called the East River, for it is nothing else than an arm
of the sea, beginning in the bay on the west and ending in the sea on
the east. After forming in this passage several islands, this water is
as broad before the city as the Y before Amsterdam, but the ebb and
flood tides are stronger. There is a ferry for the purpose of crossing
over it, which is farmed out by the year, and yields a good income, as
it is a considerable thoroughfare, this island being one of the most
populous places in this vicinity. A considerable number of Indians
live upon it, who gain their subsistence by hunting and fishing, and
they, as well as others, must carry their articles to market over this
ferry, or boat them over, as it is free to every one to use his own
boat, if he have one, or to borrow or hire one for the purpose. The
fare over the ferry is three stuivers in _zeewan_[112] for each
person.

[Footnote 111: Beeren Eylandt, afterward called Barren Island, lay
east of Coney Island, between it and Jamaica Bay. Vlaeck means "the
flat."]

[Footnote 112: Less than half a cent.]

Here we three crossed over, my comrade, Gerrit, our guide, and myself,
in a row-boat, as it happened, which, in good weather and tide,
carries a sail. When we came over we found there Jan Teunissen, our
fellow passenger, who had promised us so much good. He was going over
to the city, to deliver his letters and transact other business. He
told us he would return home in the evening, and we would find him
there. We went on, up the hill, along open roads and a little woods,
through the first village, called Breukelen, which has a small and
ugly little church standing in the middle of the road.[113] Having
passed through here, we struck off to the right, in order to go to
Gouanes. We went upon several plantations where Gerrit was acquainted
with almost all of the people, who made us very welcome, sharing with
us bountifully whatever they had, whether it was milk, cider, fruit or
tobacco, and especially, and first and most of all, miserable rum or
brandy which had been brought from Barbados and other islands, and
which is called by the Dutch _kill-d