The coastland times. [volume] (Mnateo [i.e. Manteo], N.C.) 1947-1959, 1954-11-12

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stringent, then, and then only
can we ever hope to retain any
part of that rich heritage with
which we are so beautifully
supplied, that is nature without
change, freedom and a chance to
stroll along the hunting paths
to enjoy the crisp November
days, free. A chance to mediate
on the other hand to reap the
harvest of better things and bet
ter economical living, with the
coming or advent of perhaps sew
eral small businesses and the in
gress and egress of numerous
people which will expand over
the years we would perhaps wish
for the National Park Service.
November brings along the
d-honkers, the black ducks,
teal and a few other species,
such as the American widgeon
or bald-pate, the buffle-head,
brant and others that add spice
to our days afield. Along the
surf can be seen people casting
for the Red-Drum, and as we
watch the excitement young
lady in fishing toys reels in 30
or 40 pound drum. The sands
whipped up by the north winds,
like snow, sails along across the
beach, over the high water mark
and is deposited in the rolling
sea.
AS one rides along the beaches,
birds like the willet, goodwill,
yellow-leg and other varieties
feed as the sea rolls down. Along
the opening or draws on the
sand hills or browsing on briar
or bamboo one can see cattle,
which have been a part of this
free country for years. In the
woods and high marshes now,
the wild horse is also browsing
on the briar leaves and other
flora.
A cotton-tail scampers across
the open spaces and the vision.
Wild domestic cats hunting birds
or field mice are occasionally
seen creeping slowly along, fat,
shiny and sleek in their winter
coats.
A few sheep, the only rem
nants of a large flock, full of
dirty wool, having not been
sheared in ages, scamper in
excitement across the foot hills
as the hunter rounds hill and
Jump shoots a dove. The dog
gets the dove, delivers it to
hand" The hunter pauseS and
wonders what the changes of the
next few years will really bring.
Along the reefs in the sound Wis
ible to the hunter on the hills
is a haul seiner, or perhaps IN
the sea a shrimper or founder
fisherman dragging or a men
baden porgy boat bailing menha-
den from the seine. Again in the
sound a box blind in observable,
set out, ready for the goose
hunter. Across the hills are the
serrated-golden brown frondS OF
the Sea Oats, leaning over with
the winds like sheaves of wheat.
The close of the day begins to
chill, the waters roughen, gulls
fly toward their roosts. The
shrimpers and the Porgy boats
and the seiners are sailing home
ward with their catches. The
hunter who has been blessed
with the privilege of viewing all
these wonders of the Outer
Banks trudges homeward with
perhaps rabbit hanging on his
strap, or his pocket bullying with
birds in their season. Lights be-
gin to flicker, the wind lulls to
bring in a host of changes to
make November more enhanc-
ing. November beauty along the
Carolina Outer Banks is the fruit
of all the things we see and pic
ture as of above.
The Park Service may pre-
serve this free way of life Gnso
far as the Law will permit and
provide the general public as
well as the local residents an
opportunity to view and share a
place that was first but yet last.
The sandy and boot worn
paths on the Banks Villages
will vouch for the Norwegian
Legend; quote, ION the roads
between the Homes of friends,
no grass grows" unquote.