However, the prevailing 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.
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