ng nor'east gales had so raised the water in the
west end of the sound as to fill all the creeks and ditches to
overflowing. I hesitated then no longer, but heading for the ditch
through the marshes on a high tide, before a brave west wind took the
chances of getting through by hook or by crook or by shovel and spade if
required.

The "Coast Pilot," in speaking of this place, says there is never more
than a foot of water there, and even that much is rarely found. The
_Liberdade_ essayed the ditch, drawing two feet and four inches, thus
showing the further good fortune or luck which followed perseverance, as
it usually does, though sometimes, maybe, it is bad luck! Perhaps I am
not lucid on this, which at best must remain a disputed point.

I was getting lost in the maze of sloughs and creeks, which as soon as I
entered seemed to lead in every direction but the right one. Hailing a
hunter near by, however, I was soon put straight and reassured of
success. The most astonished man, though, in North Carolina, was this
same hunter when asked if he knew the ditch that led through where I
wished to go.

"Why, stranger," said he, "my gran'ther digged that ditch."

I jumped, I leaped! at thought of what a pilot this man would be.

"Well, stranger," said he, in reply to my query, "stranger, if any man
kin take y' thro' that ditch, why, I kin"; adding doubtfully, however,
"I have not hearn tell befo' of a vessel from Brazil sailing through
these parts; but then you mout get through, and again ye moutent. Well,
it's jist here; you mout and you moutent."

A bargain was quickly made, and my pilot came aboard, armed with a long
gun, which as we sailed along proved a terror to ducks. The entrance to
the ditch, then close by, was made with a flowing sheet, and I soon
found that my pilot knew his business. Rush-swamps and corn-fields we
left to port and to starboard, and were at times out of sight among
brakes that brushed crackling along the sides of the canoe, as she swept
briskly through the narrows, passing them all, with many a close hug,
though, on all sides. At a point well on in the crooked channel my pilot
threw up his hat, and shouted, with all his might:

"Yer trouble is over! Swan to gosh if it ain't! And ye come all the way
from Brazil, and come through gran'ther's ditch! Well, I d'clar!"

From this I concluded that we had cleared all the doubtful places, and
so it turned out. Before sundown my pilot was looking for