208. Le Port aux Huistres, Oyster Harbor. The reader will observe, by looking back a few sentences in the narrative, that the French coasters, after leaving Cap St. Louis, that is, Brant Point, had aimed to double Cape Cod, and had directed their course, as they supposed, to accomplish this purpose. Owing, however, to the strength of the wind, or the darkness of the night, or the inattention of their pilot, or all these together, they had passed to the leeward of the point aimed at, and before morning found themselves near a harbor, which they subsequently entered, in Cape Cod Bay. It is plain that this port, which they named Oyster Harbor, was either that of Wellfleet or Barnstable. The former, it will be remembered, Champlain, with De Monts, entered the preceding year, 1605, and named it, or the river that flows into it, St. Suzanne du Cap Blanc.—Vide antea, note 166. It is obvious that Champlain could not have entered this harbor the second time without recognizing it: and, if he had done so, he would not have given to it a name entirely different from that which he had given it the year before. He was too careful an observer to fall into such an extraordinary mistake. We may conclude, therefore, that the port in question was not Wellfleet, but Barnstable. This conclusion is sustained by the conditions mentioned in the text. They entered, on a flood-tide, in twelve, eighteen, and twenty-four feet of water, and found thirty or thirty-six when they had passed into the harbor. It could hardly be expected that any harbor among the shifting sands of Cape Cod would remain precisely the same, as to depth of water, after the lapse of two hundred and fifty years. Nevertheless, the discrepancy is so slight in this case, that it would seem to be accidental, rather than to arise from the solidity or fixedness of the harbor-bed. The channel of Barnstable Harbor, according to the Coast Survey Charts, varies in depth at low tide, for two miles outside of Sandy Neck Point, from seven to ten feet for the first mile, and for the next mile from ten feet to thirty-two on reaching Beach Point, which may be considered the entrance of the bay. On passing the Point, we have thirty-six and a half feet, and for a mile inward the depth varies from twelve to twenty feet. Add a few feet for the rise of the tide on which they entered, and the depth of the water in 1606 could not have been very different from that of to-day. The "low sandy coast" which they saw is well represented by Spring Hill Beach and Sandy Neck; the "land somewhat high," by the range of hills in the rear of Barnstable Harbor. The distance from the mouth of the harbor to Wood End light, the nearest point on Cape Cod, does not vary more than a league, and its direction is about that mentioned by Champlain. The difference in latitude is not greater than usual. It is never sufficiently exact for the identification of any locality. The substantial agreement, in so many particulars with the narrative of the author, renders it quite clear that the Port aux Huistres was Barnstable Harbor. They entered it on the morning of the 1st of October, and appear to have left on the same day. Sandy Neck light, at the entrance of the harbor, is in latitude 41° 43' 19".
209. Nauset Harbor.
CHAPTER XIV.
CONTINUATION OF THE ABOVE DISCOVERIES, AND WHAT WAS OBSERVED OF PARTICULAR IMPORTANCE.
When we were some six leagues from Mallebarre, we anchored near the coast, the wind not being fair, along which we observed columns of smoke made by the savages, which led us to determine to go to them, for which purpose the shallop was made ready. But when near the coast, which is sandy, we could not land, for the swell was too great. Seeing this, the savages launched a canoe, and came out to us, eight or nine of them, singing and making signs of their joy at seeing us, and they indicated to us that lower down there was a harbor where we could put our barque in a place of security. Unable to land, the shallop came back to the barque; and the savages, whom we had treated civilly, returned to the shore.
On the next day, the wind being favorable, we continued our course to the north [210] five leagues, and hardly had we gone this distance, when we found three and four fathoms of water at a distance of a league and a half from the shore. On going a little farther, the depth suddenly diminished to a fathom and a half and two fathoms, which alarmed us, since we saw the sea breaking all around, but no passage by which we could retrace our course, for the wind was directly contrary.
Accordingly being shut in among the breakers and sand-banks, we had to go at hap-hazard where there seemed to be the most water for our barque, which was at most only four feet: we continued among these breakers until we found as much as four feet and a half. Finally, we succeeded, by the grace of God, in going over a sandy point running out nearly three leagues seaward to the south-south-east, and a very dangerous place. [211] Doubling this cape, which we named Cap Batturier, [212] which is twelve or thirteen leagues from Mallebarre, [213] we anchored in two and a half fathoms of water, since we saw ourselves surrounded on all sides by breakers and shoals, except in some places where the sea was breaking to go to a place, which, we concluded to be that which the savages had indicated. We also thought there was a river there, where we could lie in security.
When our shallop arrived there, our party landed and examined the place, and, returning with a savage whom they brought off, they told us that we could enter at full tide, which was resolved upon. We immediately weighed anchor, and, under the guidance of the savage who piloted us, proceeded to anchor at a roadstead before the harbor, in six fathoms of water and a good bottom; [214] for we could not enter, as the night overtook us.
On the next day, men were sent to set stakes at the end of a sand-bank [215] at the mouth of the harbor, when, the tide rising, we entered in two fathoms of water. When we had arrived, we praised God for being in a place of safety. Our rudder had broken, which we had mended with ropes; but we were afraid that, amid these shallows and strong tides, it would break anew, and we should be lost. Within this harbor [216] there is only a fathom of water, and two at full tide. On the east, there is a bay extending back on the north some three leagues, [217] in which there is an island and two other little bays which adorn the landscape, where there is a considerable quantity of land cleared up, and many little hills, where they cultivate corn and the various grains on which they live. There are, also, very fine vines, many walnut-trees, oaks, cypresses, but only a few pines. [218] All the inhabitants of this place are very fond of agriculture, and provide themselves with Indian corn for the winter, which they store in the following manner:—
They make trenches in the sand on the slope of the hills, some five to six feet deep, more or less. Putting their corn and other grains into large grass sacks, they throw them into these trenches, and cover them with sand three or four feet above the surface of the earth, taking it out as their needs require. In this way, it is preserved as well as it would be possible to do in our granaries. [219]