THAT Nathaniel and I may gather oysters without too great
labor of walking and carrying heavy burdens, Captain Smith
has bought from the savages a small boat made of the bark
of birch trees, stretched over a framework of splints, and
sewn together with the entrails of deer. On the seams, and
wherever the water might find entrance, it is well gummed
with pitch taken from the pine tree, and withal the lightest
craft that can well be made.
Either Nathaniel or I can take this vessel, which the savages
call a canoe, on our shoulders, carrying it
 without difficulty,
and when the two of us are inside, resting upon our knees, for
we may not sit in it as in a ship's boat, we can send it along
with paddles at a rate so rapid as to cause one to think it
moved by magic.
With this canoe Nathaniel and I may go to the oyster-beds,
and in half an hour put on board as large a cargo of shellfish
as she will carry, in addition to our own weight, coming back
in a short time with as much food as would serve a dozen men
for two days.
If these oysters could be kept fresh for any length of time,
then would we have a most valuable store near at hand; but,
like other fish, a few hours in the sun serves to spoil them.